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WE SHALL LIVE 
AGAIN 



The Third Series of 

Sermons which have Appeared in the 

New York Sunday Herald 



/ BY 

GEORGE H. HEPWORTH, D.D. 

Author of " Herald Sermons," " Hiram Golf's Religion," etc. 



NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty- Third Street 
1903 






THE LIBRARY OF 

CONoKESS. 

Two Copies Received 

MAR 4 1903 

i Copyright Ermy 
CUSS (X XXc. No 
COPY B. J 



Copyright 

E. P. DUTTON & CO. 
1903 



Published, February, 1903 



NOTE 

I have received many letters asking that the 
sermons of the late Dr. George H. Hep worth, 
which have appeared in the Sunday edition of The 
New York Herald, should be published in book 
form. Through the kindness of Mr. James Gordon 
Bennett, I am permitted to offer to the public 
the present volume, the third in the series of 
"Herald Sermons." 

Mrs. Georgb H. Hepworth. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

We Shall Live Again i 

The Man Within 7 

An Open Window 12 

The Gateway to Heaven 17 

In Another World . . . . . .22 

Guardian Angels 27 

The Soul of a Man 32 

Recognition in Heaven 37 

A Happy Release 42 

The Man and His Faith 47 

The Soul with a Body 51 

Partings 56 

The Soul's Greatness 61 

The Beyond 66 

The Other Liee 71 

Easter Morning 76 

Greater Things than These 81 

When Shall We Walk by Sight? .... 86 

Your Soul 92 

v 



VI CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Kernel of Corn . . . . . . .97 

Like an Apple Tree 102 

Little Duties .107 

Unconscious Influence 112 

Christmas Morning 117 

To Serve God 122 

The Lilv 127 

Rejoice Alway 132 

Consolation in Time of Trouble . . . .137 

Childish Things 143 

A Green Old age 148 

The Bethlehem of the Soul 154 

Fruit 160 

Heroes and Heroines 165 

A New Year 170 

In the Other Life ....... 175 

A Glad Heart 180 

Patient Endurance 184 

Weeds and Flowers ....... 189 

True Riches 193 

A Simple Religion 198 

Signs of the Times 203 

Burden Bearing 208 

Be of Good Cheer 213 

God and the Soul 218 

Heaven 223 



CONTENTS Vll 

PAGE 

A Humble Life 228 

Temptation 233 

The Motherhood of God 238 

What we Shall Be 243 

Possibilities 248 

Be Patient .252 

Resignation 258 

How Much Are You Worth? 263 

Love 267 



We Shall Live Again 



WK SHAM, UVE AGAIN 

And there shall be no night there. — Revelation xxii., 5. 

THERE is not a whole household on the face of 
the earth ! Not one in which there is no grief 
for the departed! The air is full of joyful greetings 
for those who have just come and of sad farewells for 
those who are just going. 

We know by experience what awaits the new- 
comers into this short but beautiful life, but what 
have we to say of those who have whispered their 
1 ' good night ' ' and are about to fall asleep ? Are 
we left in the dark concerning them, and must we 
weep until forgetful ness dries our tears, or can we 
look serenely into the future and think of them as 



2 HERALD SERMONS 

in some foreign clime, where they are rejoicing at 
their larger opportunities and awaiting our coming ? 

This is the great problem, and until it is solved to 
the soul's satisfaction we really have no God to wor- 
ship, for a God who has made love the mightiest 
element of our natures, but breaks our relationship 
to others at death as a giant snaps a thread, is a be- 
ing to be feared, but not one in whom to repose a 
cheerful confidence, and unless our religion has as 
much to say about the future as about the present, it 
neither fits our needs nor responds to our cravings. 
It is weakest where it should be strongest, and it 
suffers defeat when it should win the victory. 

Unless 3 T ou can tell me something about to-morrow 
I do not care to ask any questions about to-day. If 
the journey ends at sunset it makes very little differ- 
ence to me where I wander or what happens to me. 
The time is too short for the accomplishment of any 
high purpose, for while I am engaged in my work 
and just as I get accustomed to myself and learn 
how to use myself to the best advantage I drop out 
of sight, leaving nothing behind except the memory 
of an unfinished task, and become a mere nothing in 
the midst of nowhere. My moral sense is destroyed, 



WE SHALL UVB AGAIN 3 

and instead of that self-sacrifice for the good of 
others which is at once the most heroic and ad- 
mirable quality of my nature, I eat and drink and 
am merry, because to-morrow I shall die. 

How can I care for a God who cares so little for 
me that He makes me thirsty, leads me to the 
fountain, and then refuses to let me drink ? I may 
be convinced of His power, but I am suspicious of 
His alleged wisdom and I stoutly deny His good- 
ness. An earthly father who should act thus toward 
his family would neither receive nor deserve the 
affection of his children. 

The denial of immortality, therefore, by those 
who are constituted as we are, and who are as 
dependent as we on that affection which develops 
all that is highest and noblest in our natures, is a 
preposterous libel against Him who taught us the 
Lord's Prayer. It chills every warm motive that 
leads to holiness, and so dwarfs the soul that it be- 
comes hardly visible. No man can attain his full 
stature except under the influence of a faith which 
once in a while catches a glimpse of heaven, any 
more than a rosebush will blossom in the damp 
darkness of a cellar. Men and plants need light — 



4 HKRAI/D SERMONS 

the plant the light of the sun, and man the light of 
immortality. But once convince a man that, as he 
has fallen asleep so often in this life that he looks 
forward to it after the hard da}^'s work, sure that he 
will wake again at sunrise refreshed and ready for 
additional toil, so will he close his eyes at last only 
to open them in a brighter world, and you make a 
new creature of him. He is transformed and trans- 
figured. The whole current of his thoughts is 
changed, his incentives lead him to a higher level 
of action ; he is no longer like the musician who 
plays out of tune, for he keys his instrument to the 
concert pitch which the Leader gives, and produces 
the best music of which he and his instrument are 
capable. 

Our lives are based on thoughts, and the loftiest 
thoughts make the holiest lives. There is no con- 
ception which equals that of immortality in its be- 
nign, invigorating, and inspiring influence on the 
characteristics of a man. It consecrates all his 
energies and sanctifies all his affections. It brings 
him into harmony with the universe and gives him 
the right to call on God in time of need. He lives 
for eternity, makes plans which reach far beyond 



WE SHAU, UVE AGAIN 5 

the confines of our earthly life, bears with resigna- 
tion the burdens which Providence places on his 
shoulders, and tearfully says " Good-by," with the 
glad certainty of saying " Good morning " later on. 

But whither do they go who are summoned hence ? 
Do the bonds by which they and we are united in 
life break at death? Does memory die when the 
body is worn out ? Is memory a physical function, 
or does it belong to the soul, to live as long as the 
soul lives? Will they be so enraptured by the 
glories of the future that their interest in us will 
cease ? 

This cannot be true. Neither reason nor revela- 
tion gives utterance to such a preposterous state- 
ment. True love, the love that has grown sweeter 
and more tender with the passing years, the love on 
which two souls have leaned for support and comfort 
in the various vicissitudes of this lower world, is as 
much stronger than death as a giant is stronger than 
a child. The change from our life to another can 
produce no change in love, except, indeed, to make 
it purer than ever. Love will not, cannot die. 

And they who go, go not so far but they can re- 
turn. It is not a long journey from here to heaven. 



6 HERALD SERMONS 

In Jacob's time it was only a ladder's length, and 
it is the same now. Our loved ones are close to us, 
bringing help and good cheer. The angels minis- 
tered to Christ, and the law has not been repealed. 
They minister also to us, and when we die our open- 
ing eyes will see familiar faces, and in our weariness 
we shall find rest in the embrace of those who have 
gone before. 



THE MAN WITHIN 
Thy soul shall be required of thee.— St. Luke xii., 20. 

IT is the man within the man who excites our 
wonder. He is there, but you cannot see him. 
He is not discovered by the scalpel of the surgeon, 
who lays bare every hiding-place in the body, but 
still he is there. I have loved my friend these many 
years, have walked by his side in summer and win- 
ter, have wept and laughed with him, but I shall 
never see him until he and I move out of our 
bodies, and spirit looks into the face of spirit. 

This inner man may be closely related to the bod}', 
but the two are not identical. They are at once in- 
dependent and interdependent. I have noticed that 
when the outer man is out of order the inner man is 
hampered in consequence, as, when the strings of a 
violin are not properly tuned, the player produces 
only discords. The player and the violin are de- 
pendent on each other, and neither can make music 

7 



8 HERALD SBRMONS 

without the other, but the player and the violin are 
not one and the same. When the man within the 
man is depressed or angered the blood of the body 
rushes to the face or retreats from the face. It is 
not necessary for the lips to tell me what is happen- 
ing in the inner depths where feeling resides, for it 
is all seen in the countenance, just as the landscape 
is painted on the canvas by the artist. But the can- 
vas and the artist are not one and the same. That 
mysterious something in the face which we call 
1 ' expression ' ' is simply an outward advertisement of 
internal emotion ; it is the spirit shining through the 
body, as a light inside the lantern shines through the 
red glass, but the face which wears the expression and 
the soul which makes it are not one and the same. 
This action of body and soul on each other has led 
some to the conclusion that they can never part 
company, but at death will suffer the same fate. I 
cannot see, however, why it is impossible for a man, 
who lives in a house until it is so old that it crumbles, 
to walk out of it when the time is ripe, and with all 
his belongings, and enter and occupy another house. 
He may love the home in which he has enjoyed 
and suffered, and it may, indeed, seem to be a part 



THE MAN WITHIN 9 

of himself. His life under its roof is crowded with 
so many associations that he weeps at the thought 
of leaving it, and feels that he may never find an- 
other abode as congenial and convenient, but when 
the necessity arises he can step across the threshold 
and go where destiny leads. 

Now this soul — what is it ? I wonder if I shall 
be misunderstood if I say that it is a detached por- 
tion of Him whom I worship as God ; that for some 
cause it is at a long distance from Him ; and that 
through the struggles of life it is slowly making its 
way back, with the hope of finding itself at home 
with Him in heaven at last. God made me, there- 
fore His thought, His power, and His love express 
themselves in my whole being. For reasons which 
are easily explained, I have separated myself from 
Him, but I literally belong to Him, and He as liter- 
ally belongs to me. What I call my religion is noth- 
ing more than His revelation of the way in which I 
can approach Him more closely and maintain more 
intimate relations with Him, thus achieving my 
manifest destiny. There never comes a day in which 
I do not feel that He has the same attraction for me 
that the loadstone has for the bit of iron. In my 



IO HERALD SERMONS 

deepest nature there is an inexpressible and unsatis- 
fied yearning to be at one with Him, and the re- 
morse which is the consequence of my evil ways is 
only a kind of homesickness, a painful consciousness 
that I am not where I ought to be because I am not 
what I ought to be. 

We began the journey of life at birth with eyes 
that were blinded by the iridescent novelties of an 
untried existence. We were filled with the danger- 
ous sense of mastery. We were finite creatures, but 
we assumed the prerogatives of the infinite, and 
thought ourselves sufficient unto ourselves. We 
were gods, and God was banished. We found our 
chief pleasure in self-gratification, mistook our igno- 
rance for wisdom, and, concluding that we needed 
no help from on high, wasted our inheritance of 
holiness and ended in a tangle of doubt and despair. 
The world will continue to go wrong until self-conceit 
gives place to self-distrust, and we confess that God 
can guide us better than we can guide ourselves. 

I have seen a fire smothered with cold ashes, and 
I have seen a soul in the same condition. The pos- 
sibilities of a blaze are in the furnace, and the possi- 
bilities of high aspiration are in the soul, but they 



the man within ii 

are choked. Rake away the ashes, put on fresh 
coal, open the draught, and you will look on a 
miracle. The flame will creep through the fuel, 
and after a little the genial heat will pervade the 
house. You have been cold and uncomfortable, but 
the blood soon tingles in your veins and your whole 
being throbs with new life. 

Precisely so with the soul. It is choked for want 
of the presence of God. We have trusted earth, 
and the fire has well-nigh gone out. L,ife is dreary 
and the future is doubtful. Rake away the cold 
ashes of conceit, put your faith in the Eternal I^ove, 
seek His will and do it, then revelations will come 
to you, you will be happy, gentle, kindly, sunny — a 
child at heart and a giant to do your work. 

The Christ was filled with God's presence. He 
knew nothing else. Therefore He made the blind 
to see and raised the dead to life. He walked in 
light even when it was dark, for the light was 
within. Omnipotence was never farther off than 
arm's length and was subject to His command. 
The Christ was our Brother, and by showing us 
what we may become when we have a like faith He 
is also our Saviour. 



AN OPEN WINDOW 
And he said, Open the window eastward. — 2 Kings xiii., 17. 

A FTER a beautiful summer day I was once sit- 
^* > ting in the gloaming by the side of a friend 
whose earthly life had also reached its twilight, and 
for a while not a word was spoken. 

There are times when speech seems to be a poor 
vehicle of thought. The landscape, with its purple 
hillocks on the horizon line, had a language of its 
own. The shrill chirp of the cricket, the clear note 
of joyous birds seeking their nests for the night, the 
rippling of a near-by stream hoping to soon lose it- 
self in the river, the swaying of a field of wheat in 
the evening breeze, the soft music of the pines, like 
a harp touched by unseen hands, were so impressive 
that silence was a part of our worship. 

At length he said: " The soul has its windows as 
well as our houses. If we would lift the curtains on 



AN OPKN WINDOW 1 3 

the heavenward side we should know better how to 
live and have less dread of death. We see too much 
of the present and too little of the future. To lean 
on the window sill and look out into the busy throng 
is a pleasure, for God has offered us many oppor- 
tunities for work, but to lift the window on the other 
side and give the winds that blow from the far East 
free course through the house is a great comfort, a 
refreshment, a consolation. There are angels round 
about us, but we do not see that they are there. 
We need their kind offices, but the window is closed 
and they cannot enter. ' ' 

Then once more we grew silent and the shadows 
deepened on the earth. The stars came out one by 
one, as though they were whispering "Amen" to 
what the old man had said, and when I reached my 
study I felt that the greatest of all privileges is to 
keep the windows of the soul open on the heaven- 
ward side. We are keenly alive to every word that 
this life utters, and if with the ears of the spirit we 
could also hear what the good God and His loving 
Christ are saying we should walk with lighter step 
and bear our burdens with more buoyant energy. 
It is the lack of a personal relation to the All- Father 



14 HKRAU) SERMONS 

which puts us out of harmony with our destiny and 
makes our duty hard to perform and our faith frigid. 

No man can become a good musician unless the 
soul of music is in him. The cold ambition to 
attain perfection is nothing in comparison with that 
thirst for melody which insists on finding melody 
everywhere. It is not the strings of the instrument 
which make music, but the soul. When the heart 
is in the fingers, the tones which make the air 
vibrate bring tears to the eyes and suffuse the whole 
being with emotion. 

In like manner real religion has its origin in the 
heart rather than the head. Intellect is magnifi- 
cent, but heart is godlike. It has never occurred 
to us to declare that Jesus had a great mind, for we 
always think of Him as the lover of mankind. His 
thoughts were as wide as the firmament, indeed, and 
no secrets were hidden from Him, but somehow 
when we bend the knee to His divine excellence 
these thoughts all brush themselves aside, and we 
see only the glory of that earth-embracing love 
which pours over the ages from the sacrifice of Cal- 
vary. Philosophy profound as creation was His, 
but above it surge the infinite sympathy and charity 



AN OPEN WINDOW 1 5 

of His life, as the waves of the ocean dash over the 
jutting rocks on the coast. 

It is not so much what a man thinks as what he 
feels that makes him great ; not his intellectual con- 
ception of God, but his consciousness of God's 
presence. The poor woman's faith, abiding amid 
storm and wind, is more available than the scholar's 
treatise. 

There is a godward side of life which seems to 
be clouded and dim. Great truths are there, the 
greatest of all truths, but we see them through a 
glass, darkly. The Christ saw them with clear 
vision, and therefore He is our spiritual ideal, and 
the wear and tear of the centuries have not frayed 
His glorious garments. 

A blessed world lies all about us; a more blessed 
world looms up on the horizon line. In the 
light of the latter we walk and are happy. Heaven 
is close at hand, and through the open windows 
of the soul w r e can catch glimpses of it. Its 
dear ones are our dear ones, and their unseen hands 
are downstretched to lift us over the rough places. 
Give us an eye to see, and nothing will be too 
much to endure, for he w T ho is going home can 



1 6 HERALD SERMONS 

bear the dangers of the journey with a light 
heart. 

Religion teaches us that this is true, and therefore 
let us have religion sooner than wealth or fame or 
aught else that earth affords. 



THE GATEWAY TO HEAVEN 

A natural body and a spiritual body. — I Corinthians xv., 44. 

T F my religion can teach me to live without a regret 
* it will also enable me to die without a fear. 

That kind of religion covers the career of the soul 
from the moment of birth until it safely lands on 
another shore, where it will find something grander 
to believe and something better to do. 

In these wonderful da} r s of research science has 
crossed the line between bod}' and spirit, and a new 
realm of investigation has been discovered. The 
genius of man has at last become introspective. 

It has heretofore spent itself in boldly exploring 
the domain of physical law, and has thereby added 
to the comforts and conveniences of life. The uni- 
verse has surrendered many a secret, and there are 
many more knocking at the door of the laboratory, 

coming within range of the telescope and microscope, 

2 

17 



1 8 HKRALD SERMONS 

and whispering in the ears of those who know how 
to listen. Under the influence of our newly ac- 
quired knowledge disease has been largely checked, 
health has come within reach of all, the sea has be- 
come the pathway of commerce, distance and time 
have been annihilated, the four corners of the earth 
stretch out their hands to us morning and evening, 
every clime sends its offerings of fruit and food, and 
the music of the spheres is our lullaby as we fall 
asleep. It is a magical world in which we live. 

But in these latter days we are investigating that 
mysterious something in man which is capable of 
making all these discoveries and inventions. What 
is the universe? We have partly answered that 
question. What is the soul ? We are trying to find 
out with some degree of exactness, and with the 
hope of lifting our belief out of the fog of hypothesis 
and placing it on the strong ground of demonstration. 
We have for ages been cheered by the thought that 
soul and body, though they have the most intimate 
relations with each other, and in many respects are 
interdependent, are still so separate that the fate 
of the body does not involve the fate of the soul. In 
positive proof of this, great progress has been made, 



THE GATEWAY TO HEAVEN 1 9 

with still greater promise for the future. Research 
on scientific principles is young, but it is vigorous 
and hopeful. 

The time is not far distant when we shall be just 
as sure, not by faith only, but also by sight, of the 
other life as we are of this. Prediction veils its 
eyes as it looks into the radiant possibilities near at 
hand, and, trembling with sorrow, wears a smile as 
it bends to catch the last sigh of the departing. 
The curtain between the two worlds is being rent 
asunder, and in the revealing providence of God 
the turrets of the New Jerusalem, glistening in the 
morning glory of a wider knowledge, are almost 
visible through the mists which have enveloped 
them. 

In faithful acceptance of the truth as revealed 
by the Lord Jesus we have looked through a glass 
darkly and borne our misfortunes with calm resig- 
nation and such a hope of reunion in the better land 
that the flow of our tears has been checked, but as 
the world moves in the path of progress toward the 
Infinite Centre it is not strange that we see more 
and see it with clearer eyes. Faith is stronger, as 
well as wider in its sweep. Christ is coming closer 



20 HKRAIvD SERMONS 

to us. The New Testament is being read, not by 
candlelight, but by sunlight, and truths which were 
once vague and perplexing are pouring their comfort 
and consolation over our homes. 

The day is near at hand when what we call death 
will no longer be feared, but welcomed. When the 
true religion of Christ takes its rightful place in our 
minds we shall bend our shoulders to the burdens 
of life like a traveller who is heedless of the painful 
steep he is climbing because he is on his way home, 
and we shall do our duty with the sturdy integrity 
of the student who knows that diligent application 
to his task will prepare him for a noble career. We 
are now glad to be alive, but when the next revela- 
tion conies in all its fulness we shall also be glad to 
die. The shock of death is nothing when we know 
that we must traverse the valley of shadows on our 
way to the summit beyond. It is our unbelief which 
gives birth to a brood of fears, but farewells have a 
bitterness in them because to-morrow is hidden be- 
hind a cloud. The grave seems ghastly and heaven 
is dim because Christ speaks to dull ears. But when 
the new science shall sweep the mists away it will 
show us the Iyord on the Mount of Transfiguration. 



THE GATEWAY TO HEAVEN 21 

It will thrust aside our hampering traditions and 
crude theologies, and turn the pages of the Bible 
that we may read it afresh and learn for the first 
time what Jesus meant when He said, " I go to pre- 
pare a place for you, that where I am there ye may 
be also." 

The whole story is in the Book, and has always 
been there. Science will only corroborate the 
Master's words, and in doing so will tear the gloom 
away with which we have regarded both life and 
death. When those hours arrive we shall live in 
brotherhood, in charity, in love. The cruelties of 
our present social system and its many injustices 
will disappear, and the living gospel, the eternal 
Word, which has never j^et been understood, will be 
heard with willing ears and grateful hearts. 

And death will be shorn of its disguise as a terror 
and stand forth as the radiant messenger who comes 
when the day's work is done, lulls us to sleep, then 
wakes us to the bright morning of a new day. And 
in that waking we shall rejoice that the true love of 
earth outlasts all time and ripens into greater beauty 
in heaven. 



IN ANOTHER WORLD 

And there shall be no night there. — Revelation xxii., 5. 

WE are told very little as to the exact conditions 
under which we shall find ourselves when 
we wake from the sleep of death. Perhaps it is best 
so, in spite of our longing to know more about the 
life which lies just beyond the horizon line, and to 
which every fleeting day brings us nearer. 

If there were no other sentence except that uttered 
by Christ to the penitent culprit on the cross, ' ' This 
day shalt thou be with me in Paradise," we ought 
to be satisfied. It contains a clear statement of the 
fact of immortality, given under circumstances of 
peculiar impressiveness. It is as though a guide 
who was leading a poor disheartened pilgrim through 
that deepest darkness which just precedes the dawn 
should say, " Patience, poor soul, for yet a little 
while, and we shall see the sun on the hilltops. ' ' 



IN ANOTHER WORLD 23 

The world has advanced toward a new conception 
of the duties and privileges which await us. The 
merely poetical theories of our fathers, in which un- 
natural and uncongenial employments were specially 
conspicuous, have given way to a larger and more 
rational view. We no longer dread the future be- 
cause we shall be strangers there, but, on the con- 
trary, look forward to it because we shall be more at 
home than it is possible to be here, with opportuni- 
ties which we have hoped for in this life, but have 
never been able to attain. 

The necessity for drudgery, which consumes so 
much of our time, the struggle to provide for our 
dear ones and ourselves will lapse with death, and 
we shall be free to follow the divine ambitions which 
have during our earthly career been an elusive 
dream. We shall deal with our souls unhampered 
by the needs of physical bodies, and can develop 
ourselves in whatever direction our bent may lie, 
with an environment which will encourage us to do 
and be our best. 

It is a very rich truth that death takes from us 
what we can most easily part with, — a body which 
claims so much of our attention is oftentimes a 



24 HERAL,D SERMONS 

painful burden,— but it is powerless to rob us of mind 
and heart, which are the basis of all conceivable 
excellence. 

The poor violinist who makes strange music out 
of a wretched instrument would deem it good fortune 
to be presented with a Cremona which would re- 
spond to the touch of his finger-tips and give forth 
the sounds which he has only heard in his dreams, 
but has never been able to produce. So, I take it, 
the soul may look forward with such high anticipa- 
tion to the time when the noblest and purest and 
truest shall be placed within reach and can be had if 
he is willing to make the necessary effort. 

One thing is certain, that death changes nothing 
except location and standpoint. Personality re- 
mains untouched. The grave covers no faculty of 
the soul. I myself shall never go into the tomb. 
Before my body is taken there I shall leave it, and 
it will go alone, its duty done, its mission ended. I 
love my body, and my parting will not be without a 
certain kind of sorrow, just as tender associations 
move me to tears when I move out of an old house in 
which I have lived for years. But I have joy also, for 
I leave a worn-out home for a new and better one. 



IN ANOTHER Y/ORI<D 2$ 

If I retain my personality then I have all I can 
ask for. Invincible logic leads me on. My mind, 
my memory, my affections are part of my personality, 
and they remain undisturbed. I tenderly keep the 
past in view, and no future, however glorious, can 
obliterate my remembrance of it. I keep my love 
for those who have been left behind, my interest in 
their welfare, my desire to give them assistance. I 
am not changed one whit by the simple fact of death, 
only broadened in my sympathy, while my love be- 
comes more intense than ever and more refined. My 
farewells were not farewells, for I shall be nearer to 
my dear ones than before, though we are separated 
by a mist through which they cannot see, while I 
shall be able to do so. 

All this renders life very beautiful and very grand. 
A man's usefulness as w T ell as his happiness depends 
almost wholly on his mental attitude. The differ- 
ence between being a bit of driftwood — with no 
origin and no destination, the plaything of fate — 
and a stanch vessel, which lifts its anchor in one 
port, faces the storms and waves, and comes to 
anchor in another port — that expresses the differ- 
ence between a soul with eyes fixed on nothingness 



26 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

and a soul which walks with heaven in full 
sight. 

The Christ touches the innermost spirit of hu- 
manity when He declares that " I go to prepare a 
place for you." We want nothing more, for our 
lives are rounded and complete. We can look 
through our tears and be glad that our dear ones 
have escaped further suffering and are at rest. We 
look forward to the hour when we also shall enjoy 
that rest amid surroundings which will purify our 
hearts and lead us ever onward toward increasing 
light. 



GUARDIAN ANGELS 

Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth. — 
St. Luke xv., 7. 

'TTHIS is one of the many passages of Scripture 
*■ which we have never fully apprehended. In- 
deed, I sometimes think that we go to the Bible to 
find statements which will corroborate a theory of 
our own instead of studying it for the purpose of 
drawing from it the system which it was given to 
reveal. 

There is a great deal in the popular belief which 
I cannot find any warrant for in the language of 
Christ, and there is also a great deal in the Bible 
which I do not find in the popular belief. We be- 
lieve more than is necessary in some directions, and 
not as much as is necessary in others. 

If we could slough off what men have taught us 

as the truth and simply sit at the feet of the Master, 

as the multitudes did in Judea, we should discover, 

27 



28 HKRALD SERMONS 

perhaps to our surprise, that the essentials of re- 
ligion are very few in number and that they can be 
as easily understood by the unlettered workingman 
as by the best scholar in the land. 

My text, for example, contains two or three truths 
which have been most persistently ignored, and which 
are rarely spoken of by our religious teachers. And 
yet they are truths as beautiful as the sunshine and as 
needful in the spiritual life as dew is needful to flowers. 

First, heaven and earth cannot be far apart if there 
is rejoicing in the one place over incidents which oc- 
cur in the other. There may be a certain indefinite- 
ness in the mind as to the locality of heaven, and it 
is more than probable that this indefiniteness is for 
a good reason, but if we are assured that it is in such 
near neighborhood that those who live there are 
interested in what is going on here we have a fact 
which is of the greatest importance, and one which 
changes the whole outlook of our lives. 

The worst feature of bereavement is the feeling 
that the dear one has gone so far beyond our horizon 
line that communication is not to be thought of. It 
is that feeling which breaks the heart and prompts 
us to wear the deepest mourning. 



GUARDIAN ANGELS 29 

If one of the family goes to Europe the sense of 
loss is very profound, and the separation is hard to 
bear, but behind it all is the thought that the child 
is not only alive, but that he is in a better environ- 
ment than we could afford him in the home. We 
grieve, but mingled with the grief is something 
which makes us feel even proud of our ability to 
sacrifice ourselves for the child's good. 

If, however, one dies and goes to heaven our atti- 
tude is very different. To the sense of separation is 
added the sense of loss. There is little or no appre- 
ciation of the fact that heaven is a great deal nearer 
than Europe. The thought of immeasurable distance 
is almost equivalent to annihilation. If we had a 
larger faith, such a faith as is visible throughout the 
New Testament, we should look on a grave without 
that consuming sorrow which we now entertain, 
and think of death as more of a gain than a loss. 
We mourn hopelessly because, while we believe a 
part of the Scripture, we also ignore a part. In 
other words, we filter Christianity through our 
prejudices before we accept it. 

Now, nothing can be more evident, if the text 
contains a truth, than that there is angelic co-opera- 



30 HERALD SERMONS 

tion in human affairs. We are not alone in our 
work, our joys, or our sufferings, for the upper and 
the lower worlds overlap each other, and though we 
go not there they can come, and do come, here. 
Unless this is true you may as well close your Bible 
and " clasp it with a clasp," for it makes that state- 
ment as a component part of its revelations. Why 
we should fail to see this, or see it only with the 
physical eye and not with the spiritual, and so 
render the most glorious portion of the Book in- 
operative, cannot easily be accounted for. That we 
should deliberately blindfold ourselves when God 
tells us to look at these things is a piece of religious 
folly or bigotry which is close to religious suicide. 

To be sure, it changes our conception of the other 
world, but why should it not be changed if we have 
hugged an untruth to our bosoms when the truth 
would make us happy and contented in our work 
and patiently resigned in our sorrows? If God 
tells us of this world and its duties, why should we 
accept His revelation and then reject His word when 
He tells us of the other world and the labors in 
which its citizens are engaged ? 

They rejoice when we turn from the evil of our 



GUARDIAN ANGKI.S 3 1 

ways ; then it follows as a logical necessity that they 
grieve when we persist in evil. If we go right they 
are glad; if we go wrong they are anxious. How 
can they take any interest whatever in us unless 
that interest has two sides, joy and sorrow ? 

In our imaginations heaven is the most unreal, 
most mysterious, and most contradictory place, so 
unlike God's world below that we can hardly think 
of the two as controlled and governed by the same 
being, and as a consequence we look forward with 
something like terror to the necessity of making the 
change. This is all wrong if the Bible is right. It 
is as natural to die as it is to go to sleep, and under 
normal conditions it would be as painless. We wake 
from slumber to do our day's work. We wake from 
death to do a better work than we have ever dreamed 
of. 

Fear nothing for those who have gone, but rather 
look forward with high anticipation to a reunion. 
Simply do your duty while you live, and when the 
day ends you will be thankful for the morrow which 
awaits you. Work now, sleep at last, and afterward 
— heaven. 



THE SOUL OF A MAN 

As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my 
soul after thee, O God. — Psalm xlii., i. 

AS to what the soul is, of what elements it is 
-** composed, neither you nor I dare make any- 
dogmatic assertion. Perhaps in some future age, 
when science shall have penetrated into the radiant 
centre of this problem, and the invisible becomes 
visible, men may be able to see each other's souls 
as they now see each other's bodies. The genius 
of research has wrought so many miracles that 
such a consummation would add but little to the 
astonishment we have already enjoyed. Psychology 
is a new domain, as yet practically unexplored, 
with many a surprise in store for us. It is easy, 
therefore, to imagine that at some future time 
science will be able to demonstrate the difference 
between matter and spirit, and prove beyond a 

32 



THE SOUL OF A MAN 33 

doubt that the latter does not cease to exist when 
the former is resolved into dust. 

Whether the soul consists of some sublimated 
material substance, like the ether which fills inter- 
planetary spaces, or is essentially different from any- 
thing we call matter, is a question which at present 
puzzles the thoughtful world. Investigation is mak- 
ing long strides, and it would be rash to limit its 
possibilities. 

The Christ very evidently saw more than we can 
see, and when He called the spirit of Lazarus back 
to reinhabit his body He must have known where 
that spirit was and must have been in communica- 
tion with it. The miracle-worker and the unseen 
Lazarus must have been within hearing distance of 
each other. What He saw we may some time see, 
and certainly shall see when we are in the same re- 
lation to Gcd and the universe that He occupied. 

I am satisfied at this moment with the fact that 
the real man is behind the eye that looks, behind the 
lips which speak, and that when the lips are dumb 
and the eyes are closed this real man will step out 
of the worn-out house which has served his earthly 
purpose and enter another house which shall better 



34 HERALD SKRMONS 

fit his new environment. He will be the same man 
in another home, bnt with a larger prospect and a 
wider outlook. Whatever changes occur in his 
character and his motives will be the natural result 
of his clearer vision and his better knowledge of the 
relative value of the things to be desired, just as a 
man who travels from his narrow life in the village 
to the broad life of a great city drops his prejudices 
and his small views, and gradually becomes a part 
of the grander projects which tempt his energy and 
rouse his ambition. 

The other world is simply another and more 
favorable opportunity. If a boy should be sud- 
denly transferred from his home on the farm, with 
its slender routine of drudgery, to the competition 
of a large business circle, he would, by slow degrees, 
see everything in a different light. Many of his old 
opinions would drop like dead leaves in autumn, and 
fresh and larger ideas would take their places. He 
would be precisely the same creature, but he would 
be enlarged, ripened, developed. Just so with the 
soul after death. It will be the same soul that it 
was in the body, but it will be larger; it will expand, 
grow, and all the changes of outlook and inlook 



THK SOUL OF A MAN 35 

which are induced will simply be the result of this 
growth. 

As a man he does not lose sight of the old home 
or the dear ones far away when he achieves the suc- 
cesses of wealth. On the contrary, some of the 
sweetest memories are those which carry him back 
to earlier days, and there is always a tender spot in 
his heart for those he has left behind. Much more 
will this be true when he passes from time to eternity. 
Affection is not checked by death. It seems to me 
that it must be increased. With larger sight and 
clearer observation he will become, under God, a 
sort of providence over those for whom his soul 
yearns with unabated love, and in many ways which 
we know little about he will find happiness in being 
of service to them. 

Thus are the two worlds in juxtaposition. They 
overlap each other. Eternity and time are so min- 
gled that we cannot tell where the one ends and 
the other begins. God Himself is here, and under 
His wings we live and move. Christ is here in our 
very midst, ever turning our hopes upward and 
pouring into our poor lives the divine influence of 
His thoughts, even as the sun floods the earth and 



36 HERALD SERMONS 

warms it until it smiles with crops and flowers. The 
angels are also here, their unseen hands leading us, 
their good cheer chasing away our depression and 
filling us with a larger faith. 

This is religion, good, solid, inexhaustible, and 
everlastingly true; the only religion which can light 
our way through the darkness of to-day into the 
beauty and glory of immortality. 



RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN 

And this mortal must put on immortality. — i Corinthians 
xv., 53- 

IT has been recently asserted, on authority which 
* attracts some attention, that the desire for im- 
mortality is not as nearly universal as has been sup- 
posed. The statement is startling enough to assume 
the appearance of a misstatement. 

It may be true that a certain number of units in 
the great aggregate are so constituted mentally that 
they find it impossible to believe in immortality, but 
they are conspicuous exceptions. Such persons are 
not to be envied, because this life can never reach 
the fruition that is its ideal without the ripening and 
mellowing influence which the belief in another life 
imparts. 

A flower may perhaps blossom in the shade and 
become a thing of beauty, but it cannot be compared 

37 



38 HERALD SERMONS 

with the neighboring flower which draws its perfume 
from sunshine and dew as well as from the soil. A 
perfectly wholesome soul needs the future as well as 
the present, and the former has as much to do with 
the conduct of its life as the latter. 

And this immortality must jealously protect our 
personality, as the moat and drawbridge protect the 
castle. It is an insignificant fact that we are to live 
again unless we are to be as truly ourselves in the 
hereafter as we are here, or, better still, unless we 
are to be more truly and more largely ourselves 
there than here. The Oriental philosophy which 
bids the soul prepare to be absorbed in the infinite 
at death, as a mountain rill is absorbed by the ocean, 
thus losing its little self in the magnificence of the 
whole, rouses no spiritual response and furnishes 
but slender motives for right action. We may not 
be worth much, but what value we have resides in 
the fact that we are what we are, with indefinite op- 
portunity for self- development. 

The thought of Christ was that death is not anni- 
hilation in any sense or in any degree. To-morrow 
will be like to-day. The only change that can occur 
is the loss of the body, or, rather, the exchange of a 



RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN 39 

physical for a spiritual body, but not even death can 
alter those qualities which constitute our characters. 
Death has unquestioned power over muscles and 
nerves, but no power whatever over memory or 
affection. These are beyond his province, and he 
cannot encroach upon them. Either this is true or 
immortality is a figment of the imagination, a pleas- 
ing delusion, but not a truth. Memory undisturbed 
and affection unaltered not only render the farewells 
of those who go as impressive as they are hopeful, 
but they are the crowning benediction of God on 
those who remain. 

Shall we, then, recognize the dear ones when we 
meet on the other shore ? How can it be doubted ? 
Is the faith of ages a mockery ? Have we through 
the longings and the yearnings of centuries built 
up a theory which is to be suddenly extinguished as 
one blows out a candle and finds himself in the dark ? 
Is the door of eternity, which has been revealed not 
by the Christ only, but by the irrepressible instincts 
of human nature, to be bolted against us as we ap- 
proach it; and will the voice of a loving Father, who 
has asked us to trust Him, change its tone to 
harshness in the assurance that the hopes He 



40 HERALD SERMONS 

has implanted, which have cheered us as we 
pushed our way towards heaven, are a deceit and 
a falsehood? Of all impossibilities this reaches 
the most colossal proportions. There is nothing 
in the infinite length and breadth of the universe so 
incredible. 

On the other side we shall meet again ; and, meet- 
ing, we shall know each other. Mated souls will 
continue in another life the journey which was inter- 
rupted here. The mutual interest which makes you 
and your friend one here will know no change there. 
Undivided hearts will remain undivided, and under 
the benign influence of eternity they will come even 
closer together. 

Vessels which left port in company may be sepa- 
rated and sail far apart during the storm; but they 
are bound for a common destination, and when they 
reach it they will be in company once more. The 
separation was only an incident, only for a time, 
and the coming together was accomplished by the 
compass with which every vessel was provided. 
Moreover, these vessels can communicate with each 
other by wireless telegraphy, and souls on earth can 
equally hold communion with souls in heaven. 



RECOGNITION IN H^AVKN 4 1 

Patience, resignation, faith, — these three. They 
make the present endurable, even cheerful, for the 
other shore is not far distant, and then we shall be 
with God, Christ, and those to whom we have said 
good-night ! 



A HAPPY RELEASE 

But is passed from death unto life. — St. John v., 24. 

AVERY dear friend of mine has just left this 
world behind him in his travels. He has 
gone beyond the reach of my vision. His fourscore 
years were spent in the sunshine of a consecrated 
life, and he constantly reminded me of a wheat- field 
whose grain had ripened and was ready for the 
reaper's sickle or scythe. 

When I heard that he had fallen asleep and could 
not be wakened ; that the voice of a loved one had 
called him, but he had not answered, I knew that 
he was enjoying repose after a hard day's work. 
His earthly life had suddenly become a reminiscence. 
He had gone elsewhere, had solved the great prob- 
lem, and was in the midst of scenes about which he 
had dreamed from his youth. He had discovered 

that the faith on which he builded was a surer 

42 



A HAPPY RELEASE 43 

foundation than the bold headland which juts into 
the sea and which the storms of ages have not 
displaced. 

When I heard of his departure I was shocked, be- 
cause his absence would be a personal loss, but to 
my surprise my eyes were unwet with tears. He 
was glad that it was all over, and why should I not 
be also? I felt like congratulating the dear ones 
who were left, but their grief restrained me. And 
yet it was the right thing to do. The old idea of 
death, which has prevailed for so many generations 
that it has become a sad heirloom, put its finger on 
my lips, and I was dumb, but the larger confidence 
in immortality which of late has fallen upon the 
race like a refreshing shower prompted me to say 
that my friend had been wonderfully blessed by his 
transfer from the lower to the higher existence, from 
the beauties of earth to the glories of heaven. 

I believe that one should be cheerful all through 
life, but especially so in advanced age. In our 
youth we have the world before us, but our capaci- 
ties, our faculties, are all undeveloped. We neither 
know what we are nor what we can do. Hardship 
is our schoolmaster, and only through our mistakes 



44 HERALD SERMONS 

do we learn how to live. We put pleasure, excite- 
ment, perhaps passion, to the test, and find at last 
that the soul is still hungry and unsatisfied. When 
we reach middle life we become philosophers and 
logicians. We pass from the radiant realm of imagi- 
nation into the domain of reality, and for the first 
time know how to live in order to make the most 
and the best of life. By that time our whole out- 
look and our whole inlook have changed. The 
inner man has matured, while the body suffers de- 
cadence. The one has learned wisdom. The other 
recognizes its doom. The soul has become stalwart, 
is armed and equipped for achievement, while the 
body suffers pain which points to dissolution. 

These are the stern facts of the case. But they 
are not more stern than prophetic. If, therefore, 
we superadd to our philosophy and logic the faith 
which opens the door of immortality, then we be- 
come happier and more cheery and peaceful and con- 
tented as we approach the end. It is in the natural 
order of things that it should be so. And it will be 
so if we keep company with the Christ. If it is not 
so, then we are in an abnormal and unhealthy state 
of mind. 



A HAPPY RELEASE 45 

How suggestive it is that we are just ready to live 
nobly, and have just learned from our blunders how 
to do so, when the Strong Messenger knocks at our 
door with a writ of eviction in his hand ! What is 
the meaning of it all ? Simply this, if I read the 
Scriptures aright, — that we get our primary educa- 
tion here, and equip ourselves to make use of the 
larger opportunities which another life will afford. 
Death is an introduction to higher privileges and a 
wider field of labor. 

In the forest one happy afternoon, just as the 
sinking sun colored the clouds with crimson glory, 
I came upon a ground-bird's nest. I stooped to ex- 
amine the four little eggs which lay therein. It was 
a pretty sight, for nature in all its phases is beauti- 
ful and instructive. I soon found, however, that the 
eggs were empty. Perhaps some despoiler had been 
there, some robber reptile. But no. The mysteri- 
ous life within those eggs had matured. The shell 
was no longer a fit residence for it; it had broken 
through its confinement, and had taken wing. Pos- 
sibly the bird that perched on a fallen log near me 
had lived in that narrow home and was now chirping 
cheerily at its release. Happy bird ! I thought. 



46 HERALD SKRMONS 

Shall I be sorry that it is enjoying a forest life in- 
stead of an egg life ? Is it a time to weep because 
the shell is empty ? Shall I not rather be glad that 
another songster has been added to the great flock; 
and, though I am awestruck at the change which 
has taken place, a change so mysterious that I can 
never hope to understand its processes, can I look at 
the empty egg and then at the bird on the trunk of 
that old tree without breaking into song myself ? 

So I looked on the face of my friend, but did not 
see him there. He had gone. His body was an 
empty shell. But one more voice is added to the 
chorus of praise, one more soul has broken free from 
the trammels of time. I have one less to love on 
earth; one more to love in heaven. 

Thus says the religion of Christ. It is cheerful, 
hopeful, and joyful. The day brightens as it de- 
parts. Sunset means sunrise. Our real loves are 
untouched by death. When we reach our other 
home we shall be glad that we have crossed the 
river, and shall wait for the coming of those who 
have lingered while we hastened. 



THE MAN AND HIS FAITH 

O death, where is thy sting. — i Corinthians xv., 55. 

H\EATH is always impressive. It is one of the 
*— ' experiences through which we pass, either 
with the grim fortitude of an unyielding will, if our 
outlook into the future is cloudy or misty, or, if we 
have faith, then with the trembling assurance of one 
who traverses the dark with a lantern to guide his 
way. 

There is an infinite difference in the mental atti- 
tude of one whose earthly day is spent, and who 
faces the impenetrable shadows of an eternal night, 
and one who knows that there is a to-morrow hidden 
behind to-da}^, and that the sun which gilds the west 
with pleasant memories will soon gild the east with 
the radiant beauty of a higher life. 

The heart that clings to immortality has an ele- 
ment of strength which is otherwise unknown. I 

47 



48 HERALD SKRMONS 

have seen death many a time as it stole with slip- 
pered feet into a tearful household, and have watched 
the varying emotions with which the sufferers met 
the inevitable. I am free to confess that some who 
have said their last farewells, but have had no hope 
of a continued existence, have bravely stood the 
shock of fate and taken the step into the dark with- 
out a tremor of fear. In that supreme moment they 
have been even glad to be relieved of physical pain 
and to enter on the rest which is equivalent to ob- 
livion. But I have also seen something as much 
grander than this as the grandeur of a symphony 
built by a master brain is greater than that of the 
cradle song with which the nurse sings the child to 
sleep. The eyes have seen what comes within 
range of mortal vision only in that hour when 
heaven discloses itself to those who are about to 
enter therein. At eventide there was light, and 
that light filled the last moments with the crim- 
soned beauty of a sunset cloud. Farewells were 
mellowed by the certainty of a reunion which would 
come in good time, and the tired traveller whispered 
of hand-clasps in a better land. The couch of the 
sufferer seemed surrounded by " invisible beings 



TH£ MAN AND HIS FAITH 49 

who walk the earth both when we wake and when 
we sleep," and religious faith, ripening into resigna- 
tion, parted the lips to say, as Mr. McKinley said, 
11 It is God's will; His way is best." Then I have 
talked in serious strain to my own soul, and have 
declared that this simple trust, which can make us 
buoyant when the tears of our loved ones are falling 
like a sudden shower, is the most practical thing 
known to man, and is worth more than all else that 
earth can offer. 

So to live that to die is gain, and to be conscious 
that it is a gain; to be glad of the exchange of an 
earthly for a spiritual body, and to fall asleep in the 
certainty of waking in a higher and a nobler life, is 
to grasp the consummation so devoutly to be wished, 
and to reach the ideal which God places within reach 
of honesty, truth, and fidelity. 

The President — the mortal part of him— lies in the 

shadow of death. We mourn him because he was 

the friend of the Republic, because his public policy 

was based on the best welfare of the people as he 

understood it. We revere his memory because in 

both his private and his official life he was the sturdy 

defender of the right, a man with a conscience. It 
4 



50 HKRAI.D SKRMONS 

is no flattery to say in this hour of our national be- 
reavement that a sense of personal loss increases our 
sorrow, but as we think of him on this Sunday morn- 
ing it is not in connection with the office he filled so 
much as in connection with the courageous man- 
liness of the man. Simple-minded, quiet in heart, 
he was at first hopeful of recovery, and did his part 
to stay the progress of his malady, but when he saw 
that it had been otherwise decreed he looked through 
the window at the green trees and the blue sky, 
whispering, "How beautiful!" Then, with the 
peaceful acceptance of his doom, bade us all good- 
bye, and, with " Thy will be done," fell asleep. 

We shall cherish the memory of our dead — his life 
an incentive to the youth of his country, his record 
unblemished by regrets. He has passed beyond 
the reach of time, and his last hours were made 
radiant by a faith in God and a certainty of the im- 
mortality which awaits us all. Such an example, 
such a deathbed, speak to us with an eloquence 
which cannot be resisted. 

That kind of religion leads one in the footsteps of 
the Master, both when He entered Gethsemane and 
when He ascended to Heaven. 



THE SOUL WITH A BODY 
Whilst we are at home in the body. — 2 Corinthians v., 6. 

TJOW odd and yet how natural it is that we 
* * should always have put the body before the 
soul in our endeavor to make the present life com- 
fortable and satisfactory ! 

There is a visible man, and there is, as one of the 
barbaric tribes of Africa has it, " the man who looks 
out of your eyes." The first monopolizes our atten- 
tion; the second receives only a passing thought. 
We are under a persistent illusion that the first is 
real while the second is more or less mythical, 
whereas the exact opposite is the truth. 

To this visible man we devote all our ingenuity. 
We see that he is well fed, clothed, and housed. 
We devote ourselves to making him happy. We 
surround him with all the luxuries and conveniences 
which can be invented. We have stolen power from 

51 



52 HERALD SERMONS 

the clouds, fuel from the depths of the earth, and 
laid the fields and forests under tribute for his enjoy- 
ment. We have done so much for him that I am 
not far from right in declaring this to be an age of 
miracles. Indeed, he has absorbed so large a part 
of our time and thought that we have neglected the 
welfare of the man who looks out of our eyes, 
ignored his necessities, and left him to care for him- 
self as best he can. 

We even go so far as to believe that we shall be 
happy if we can satisfy the demands of the physical 
and sensuous. To this end we constantly struggle, 
and most of us die before our purpose is attained. 
We say to ourselves that we shall be supremely 
happy when we have earned the fortune which will 
purchase the longed-for environment— a house, equi- 
page, pictures, and the thousand other things which 
we think are to be coveted. Then when we change 
our dream into reality and possess the power to grat- 
ify every wish we meet with a surprise and a disap- 
pointment. We are not satisfied as we expected to 
be. We have toiled for what seemed tobe a substance, 
but it turns out to be a shadow. Happiness is not 
found in what the merely physical man can enjoy. 



TH£ SOUL WITH A BODY 53 

The only true man is the one who looks out of 
our eyes; the one of whom we have taken so little 
account ; the one whose highest aspirations we have 
sacrificed in order to acquire a lesser, an inferior 
satisfaction. 

We shall never know happiness until we recognize 
this fact, throw aside our false philosophy, and pur- 
sue a nobler policy. Religion has been warning us 
all along that we must attend to the wants of this 
second man, but so forceful has been our unbelief 
that we have regarded religion as something to die 
by, but not to live by, a very disagreeable and dis- 
tasteful something which forbids the pleasures in 
which we take delight and enjoins duties which are 
peculiarly irksome. All this is the result of false 
thinking. We are possessed by convictions which, 
like an ignis fatuus, lead us astray. 

We have heretofore believed, and acted on the be- 
lief, that we are a body with a soul in it, but the 
truth is that we are a soul with a body for an over- 
coat. To devote ourselves to the overcoat and 
neglect the soul would seem to be a piece of irra- 
tional folly, and yet that is what we have been doing 
and what we are doing now. The worship of the 



54 HERALD SERMONS 

overcoat — that is our religion. And the hardest 
task we ever perform is to get far enough away from 
the overcoat to recognize the fact that we have a 
soul. We are hypnotized by the body. It has 
made us its servants, its slaves, and in some cases 
our slavery is of the most abject kind. 

The man who looks out of our eyes is our real 
self. He is imprisoned for a time in the body, and 
we look so carefully after the prison that we almost 
forget that there is a prisoner. But the hour will 
arrive when the prison will crumble, and then the 
emancipated prisoner will go free. 

What is on the outside of a man may add some- 
what to his happiness, but it cannot produce it. It 
may increase the number of his opportunities to 
acquire a blessing by giving a blessing, but unless 
what is inside is satisfied life must needs be a failure. 
I can make a stronger statement and still be within 
the limits of exact truth : if the man who looks out 
of your eyes is contented you have very little more 
to ask of kind Heaven, though perchance your larder 
may be well-nigh empty, but if that man is not con- 
tented he cannot be made so by a dozen gold-mines 
and by all that they are able to purchase. 



THK SOUL. WITH A BODY 55 

We are living body-lives, not soul-lives. Our time 
is spent not so much on a sensual as on a sensuous 
plane. Thoughts, beliefs, aspirations, are not re- 
garded as a fortune to be worked for or dreamed of 
as a ' ' consummation devoutly to be wished. ' ' They 
have no value which excites covetousness. On the 
contrary, we regard the possessor of these treasures 
as peculiar, eccentric, possibly unbalanced. But 
stocks and bonds and houses, — these are the real 
coin, and in order to acquire them we make all 
sacrifices, run the risk of breaking down in middle 
life, and rob the soul of its honor and self-respect. 

I do not scorn the body, but I worship the man 
who looks out of your eyes. Guard both with vigi- 
lance, but especially the latter. The real man is the 
immortal man, who will some day move out of his 
body. Him I ought to cherish, educate, develop. 
He must be nourished by noble thoughts and unselfish 
aims. He is really all I am. With everything else I 
shall some time part company, but with him never, 
and when death comes to demand of him the surrender 
of the body — that is, his overcoat — he will then begin 
a broader and a grander life, in comparison with which 
this is only the primary school of his childhood. 



PARTINGS 

And all that generation were gathered unto their fathers. 
— Judges ii., 10. 

r I 'HE gates of heaven can never be closed, for 

* every instant of time some released and glad 

soul, from some part of the earth's surface, crosses 

the golden threshold and finds rest. The air is filled 

with our good-byes and the welcome of angels, and 

if we hear the one but not the other it is because 

our faith is weak and our ears are dull. We are 

apt to forget when some dear heart leaves us that if 

there is sorrow in our homes there is great rejoicing 

in the upper zone. 

After the weariness and pain of a long illness, 

heaven is what a safe anchorage is to a storm-tossed 

vessel. The vessel heaves a sigh of relief that its 

struggle is over and it can rest quietly on the bosom 

of the calm waters which are so land-locked that it 

56 



PARTINGS 57 

has nothing to fear. It has done brave battle with 
wind and sea, has perhaps been taxed to the utmost 
to hold its course, but the rattling of the anchor- 
chain means that the victory has been won and that 
sunshine and blue skies are to be the reward of its 
brave efforts. So the soul, hampered and handi- 
capped by some insolent and aggressive disease, be- 
comes resigned to separation from the body, and 
finds in another world the peace and freedom which 
were denied in this. It hesitates, possibly, as it ap- 
proaches the end, because it is a strange experience 
through which it is about to pass, but when the 
crisis is over, and it soars to realms unknown in 
company of those whom the Father has sent to see 
.it safely on its way, it is like the traveller who sud- 
denly emerges from a multitude of dangers and 
hardships and finds himself in the embrace of old 
friends. 

That we should mourn is both natural and proper. 
That we should robe ourselves in heavy black, as 
though the sun and God Himself had been blotted 
out, is, from the standpoint of a cheerful faith, little 
short of a crime. Death, if we think aright, is a 
release from the burdens which we have borne for 



58 HERALD SERMONS 

years, and entrance into a realm of larger oppor- 
tunity. Many a man has come to his best self only 
after he has left the churchyard behind him. If our 
religion is worth anything it shows itself in the 
temper in which we face separation. We may think 
of ourselves, of our personal loss, in which case 
selfishness is the chief characteristic of our grief; or 
we may think of the departed and beneath our tears 
cherish the glad belief that he has found at last the 
rest which his earthly life refused to give. The true 
view of the situation is that which our Christianity 
furnishes — sorrow which cannot be repressed, with 
rejoicing that there is another life, and that he is in 
a better home than earth can afford. 

It seems to me that a religion which keeps us 
company until we reach the edge of the grave, and 
then abruptly leaves us, has little practical value. I 
would as lief never have met it as to be compelled 
to part with it in that supreme moment. To shrug 
its shoulders when we ask about the future, and 
have nothing to say, shows plainly enough that it is 
not the kind of religion the soul craves. The Christ, 
at such a time, shines like Orion on a winter night. 
He grows grander of stature and calmer of spirit as 



PARTINGS 59 

He approaches Calvary. But He is grandest at the 
last, and when we go to the tomb to pay our last 
tribute He is not there. He mastered death, and if 
we wish to see Him we must look up, not down. 
We must needs listen when such a preacher preaches. 

We have lost dear ones and wonder where they 
have gone. Our eyes are dim with tears, but despair 
changes to hope as the air vibrates with the words, 
" I^et not your heart be troubled." Our hearts are 
not only troubled, but broken, if death is death; but 
when He tells us that death is life, that earth is the 
threshold of heaven, our whole outlook is changed. 
There is good cheer everywhere, for the end of this 
life is only the beginning of a better life. We step 
up when we approach the grave. 

And they who have gone may be nearer to us and 
more helpful than when we and they were under the 
same roof. Unseen presences are in every house- 
hold. To realize this is to have a clear sky above 
us. One lives above the clouds when he has this 
faith. Think of the other world as home, therefore, 
— of this world as a simple bivouac, — and the whole 
aspect of things will be brightened. They have 
gone, but we shall go too in good time, and when 



6o HERALD SERMONS 

we meet again, as we certainly shall, we can put our 
hands on our hearts and say : I,ife has been beauti- 
ful, death has done us a service, and heaven is our 
permanent abiding-place. 



THE SOUL'S GREATNESS 

And the Lord God breathed into his nostrils the breath of 
life ; and man became a living soul. — Genesis ii., 7. 

WHAT a startling statement ! And the longer 
you think of it the more it startles you. 

Man, then, is a twofold being — dust and God ! In 
good time the dust will go back to the place whence 
it was taken, to be used again as a component part 
of tree or flower or animal. We need it only for a 
few years, and when it has served our purpose we 
sigh farewell, for its companionship has been very 
pleasant, and so our knowledge of it ends. 

But the ( * living soul," what of that ? It does not 
return to Him whose breath it was, but preserves its 
identity, is indestructible, and, as a personal being, 
enters another sphere of activity, there to be de- 
veloped by circumstances more favorable than any 

which earth can afford. 

61 



62 HERALD SKRMONS 

The dust can accomplish its entire mission here, 
and why, therefore, should it continue to be a part 
of us ? But the soul never wakes up to a perfect 
knowledge of itself until it is roused from the sleep 
of death. Then only does it thrill with the con- 
sciousness of real life. Its bondage to the flesh is 
broken, it becomes free, it loses the sense of limita- 
tion, it recognizes its dignity as a part of the plan of 
God, it feels within itself the throbbing of this 
breath of the Creator, it appreciates its kinship to 
Him, and it trembles with boundless joy at the 
thought that it is immortal. 

How curious that a man who lived several thou- 
sand years ago, and who represented a semi- bar- 
barous people, should have uttered such words as 
these ! Where did he get the truth he spoke ? Yes, 
they are the truth as we in this modern age under- 
stand it. All our systems of religion are based on 
it, and when we meditate of the grandeur of the 
soul and its endless destiny the words of the text 
repeat themselves in our ears. They are crudely 
and rudely symbolical, and yet they have rung 
through the ages like a chime of bells. We do not 
accept the seer's story of man's creation as literally 



THE soul's greatness 63 

true, but we are amazed that he should have so 
emphasized the difference between body and soul at 
a time when the world was in its swaddling-clothes. 

We retain his idea, but clothe it in more philo- 
sophic language. We declare that God's life per- 
vades the universe; that all life comes from Him 
and is a part of Him. Man's soul is, therefore, the 
God in man. Since no part of God can die, the 
soul must needs live forever. The Infinite and 
the finite belong to each other, just as the water in 
a pool came from the water in the ocean. The 
mother's love is simply God's love fitted to the 
limitations of a home, and all the attributes of man 
are God's attributes in miniature, the one being the 
shadow of the other, or, better still, the echo of the 
other. You cannot get away from God, and when 
you try to do so your conscience pricks you and bit- 
ter remorse is your portion. Remorse is merely the 
homesickness of the soul, the soul remembering that 
it has wandered and longing to get back. 

What a marvellous idea of human life follows 
from these facts! You have perhaps wasted it 
under the honest impression that it matters little 
what becomes of it, or that, at any rate, it is your 



64 HKRAI^D SERMONS 

own and you have a right to do with it what suits 
your fancy. But no; your life is in a large sense 
the property of God, and you are His appointed 
steward to guard, care for, and develop it. It will 
never return to God as two flames, the little and the 
large, combine, the little being lost in the large, for 
God has given you your life, just as a king would 
give a peasant some treasure, never asking for it 
again. 

And that life of yours, that mysterious, wonderful 
life, a puzzle which no science has yet truly guessed 
— what use have you made of it, what are you doing 
with it now, and what shape will it take in the 
days to come? Has it been depressed by leaden 
doubts and fears, has it been frittered away in follies 
or in pleasures which have lasted no longer than a 
brilliant soap-bubble which bursts when its colors 
are most radiant? Or have you moulded it into 
some heroic form, using your circumstances as the 
sculptor uses his tools to bring the statue out of the 
rough block of marble ? 

God has done one thing which seems to me so 
awfully grand that the brain reels while contemplat- 
ing it: He has given you sole charge of your own 



THE SOUl/S GREATNESS 65 

character. You are master, and events are your 
slaves. He puts sweet and persuading influences 
about you, He sends the whole unseen world to 
direct you with invisible hands, but when you face 
your experience you alone must decide whether it 
shall lift you to the stars or sink you into the mire. 
Such responsibility! How God must have prized 
the soul He created when He made it the arbiter of 
its own fate ! 

And if He has given it such grandeur and crowned 
it with immortality, can we do aught else than lead 
princely lives, as Jesus did, conscious that we are so 
large that we should disdain all smallness, and throb- 
bing with that divine ambition which will be satis- 
fied with nothing less than the highest good and the 
noblest attainment ? 

That is the religion of Christ, and it consists of an 
appreciation of what you are, and of your destiny, 
and a determination, with help from above, to pro- 
duce such a character out of the discords and smiles 
of time that He will say at last, ' * Well done, good 
and faithful servant." 



THE BEYOND 

Who brought life and immortality to light. — 2 Timothy 
i., 10. 

J HAD a serious conversation the other day with 
* a scientific man, a surgeon, and he made one 
statement which is so remarkable that I would like 
to speak of it at some length. 

He had, of course, seen many men in their last 
earthly moments, and he declared that what he 
called philosophy, which includes a doubt or denial 
of continued existence, would enable one to die as 
comfortably and serenely as religion. At least that 
was his experience and observation. 

Now it seems to me that this statement contradicts 
the whole logic of the universe. If it is true, then I 
have all my life misunderstood my own human 
nature and that of everybody I know. 

I can easily believe that under certain circum- 
stances a man may welcome an eternal sleep as 

66 



TH£ BEYOND 67 

preferable to the life which has furnished him with 
nothing but disappointment, failure, and suffering. 
Such a man, however, is in an abnormal state of 
mind, and is not a fair representative of his fellows. 
I can also conceive of one who is utterly reckless 
and who lacks a full appreciation of the value of the 
soul, meeting death with a grim kind of courage, 
without any hope of waking up after he falls asleep. 
He also would be an exception to the general rule. 

But that the average man, living an average life, 
is willing to surrender himself to utter obliteration, 
and does it cheerfully and without a pang, is to me 
quite beyond credibility. I am not myself made in 
any such mould, and' there is no reason to suppose 
that I am in this respect different from others. 
That the thought of annihilation can exert a sooth- 
ing influence on a dying bed looks like a contradic- 
tion of terms, and that the religion which fills us 
with hope is no better than the so-called philosophy 
which denies all hope is so wholly unthinkable that 
I open my eyes in wonder when the assertion is 
made. 

It will be easily granted, even by atheism, that if 
there were another life the certainty of it would give 



68 HKRAU) SERMONS 

us good cheer in the hour of our departure. I am 
sure, therefore, that a man who has faith in immor- 
tality, other things being equal, can meet his fate 
more calmly, can say farewell less regretfully, than 
he who says good-night with the feeling that the 
night is to last forever. 

The last thought is copper, the first is golden; 
and if it be true that men are just as satisfied with 
copper as with gold, then I have read the world all 
wrong. 

Stand by a grave. Life is only a prologue and 
has ended. The love which you have given has 
snapped like an overstrained rope. No hope, no- 
thing but darkness. Is it well with you, my 
brother ? Are you resigned ? Can you be of good 
cheer ? The last note of life's music has been heard, 
and the soul that uttered it has died with the body. 
That is one picture. 

Listen once more. Love never dies. The dear 
one is in a better land and awaits your coming. 
Hearts need not break at separation, because the 
hope of reunion is ever present. Heaven is close at 
hand, and there will be other handclasps in other 
climes. Now it is indeed well with you, and there 



THE BEYOND 69 

is no bitterness in your tears. This picture is better 
than the other, and it is the true picture. 

Some of us are getting well along toward the 
autumn of life. The first frosts have already come, 
and there are flakes of snow in the air, presaging 
the approach of winter. We have lost some of 
our heart's best treasures, and their memory is still 
green. Our love for them grows warmer and 
kindlier as the swift days, like the flight of birds, 
go by. We face the inevitable and ask ourselves 
what it has in store for us. We must be very 
thoughtless if we have not done this a thousand 
times and received some sort of answer. 

If philosoph} 7 teaches me to doubt, and religion 
teaches me to believe, I don't know what kind of 
human nature it is which finds as much comfort in 
the one as in the other; and I have yet to find the 
man who would n't be happier and better if he had 
more of Christ's spirit in his life and heart. The 
true philosophy and the true religion, yes, and the 
true science, also, are all one in their aim, which is 
to enlarge the scope of usefulness and comfort, and 
by and by the three will stand side by side, co- 
operative giants, lifting us all up to the higher level. 



70 HERALD SERMONS 

I have perfect faith that a man can feel his way to 
the throne of God, and equal faith that he can think 
his way there. 

Until that consummation is reached, my observa- 
tion shows me, and my experience with my own 
soul proves it, that an estrangement from God can- 
not produce as grand results as a secure confidence 
in Him. If I am sure that I am travelling along an 
upward road, and that as my outward eye grows dim 
my inward eye will see the Home which is my ulti- 
mate destination, a Home in which I shall once more 
see my old friends, I can think of death with a smile, 
and even hold out my hands to him in welcome. 

But if the end is the end, — if they are all gone for 
ever, and I am going the same way, — I face events 
in a different state of mind, and wonder sadly why I 
have lived at all. 

The brightest, holiest, and most inspiring thing 
under the sun is a belief that we shall wake up after 
sleep. It gives us courage, broadens our shoulders, 
and makes us rich in anticipation. The other life is 
better than this, and when there we shall complete 
the work which we left unfinished as the shadows 
fell on our short and troubled earthly career. 



THE OTHER LIFE 

And when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, 
some mocked ; and others said, We will hear thee again of 
this matter. — Acts xvii., 32. 

SINCE those old days the number of those who 
mock has steadily decreased. We have heard 
again of this matter, and have attained to some- 
thing like a certainty concerning the continuance of 
life after the incident of death. The time for argu- 
ment has passed, and, while all regard immortality 
as a possibility and many look upon it as a glorious 
and alluring probability, the great majority have a 
faith which cannot be shaken. 

The world presents to the careful observer a curi- 
ous and interesting paradox. First, it is true that 
we are wonderfully absorbed in purely material 
things. We have discovered so many forces which 
our fathers knew nothing about, and have so eagerly 
set ourselves to the task of making them contribute 

71 



72 ' HERALD SERMONS 

to our convenience and comfort, that at first sight it 
seems as though we had abandoned all thought of 
the future and were making ourselves content with 
the present, to the exclusion of what will happen 
when we fall asleep. 

But, second, this very enjoyment of to-day is a 
hint of to-morow. If we can do so much now, if we 
have developed capacities which grow by what they 
feed on and which hint at no limitation, a silent and 
subtle logic tells us that extinction in the midst or 
on the very threshold of achievement is an unthink- 
able anomaly. The orchestra must not lay down 
their instruments in the middle of a symphony; the 
thinker must not cease to think when he has barely 
learned how to do it, and the builder must not leave 
his work when he has laid the foundations of the 
house, but should certainly go on until the structure 
is completed. 

It seems to me, therefore, that the trend of the 
age is in the direction of a larger, a wider, and a 
firmer belief in immortality. The more we know of 
this world the more we feel the need of another. 
We have not done with God when we have done 
with our earthly life. A quiet conviction has stolen 



THE OTHER LIFE 73 

into the universal consciousness that there are other 
rooms in the Father's mansion which we shall some 
time occupy, and that they who have gone are 
simply a day's march ahead of us in the soul's 
journey. 

This thought is so prevalent that we can feel its 
presence everywhere. It has changed our mental 
attitude toward sorrow and bereavement. The 
desolate churchyard of other days, with its moss- 
covered stones and its atmosphere of loneliness and 
hopelessness, 'has no place in the spiritual economy 
of these days. A brighter outlook has forced us to 
change all that. Our cemeteries are no longer 
neglected, but their broad acres are covered with 
flowers, as with a sad kind of good cheer. 

This change in the outward is proof of a change 
in the inward. The heart of man is not as the heart 
of our fathers, and the faith of man is deeper. The 
other world is no longer a dream, but a mist- 
covered reality. In time to come the mists will roll 
away, because the sun will grow brighter, and the 
future will be as clear to us as the present. Possi- 
bility has given way to probability, and probability 
is slowly surrendering to demonstration. 



74 HERALD SERMONS 

A light fills the eyes, a joy fills the heart, and 
separation is no longer the equivalent of despair. 
God has spoken often, but we are just now learning 
to hear what He has been saying ever since death 
first brought its shadows into the household. Re- 
ligion has a larger element of rejoicing in it. We 
have heretofore stood at the door of the tomb and 
tearfully wondered who had taken the body of 
Christ away, but now we have heard angel-voices 
say, ' ' He is risen as He said ! ' ' and our graves have 
become resting-places, a mere bivouac on the road 
to heaven. 

During the last half-century the whole complexion 
of human experience has been altered. The fear of 
an arbitrary judge has given way to love of a just, 
a merciful, a sympathetic, and loving Father. For 
the first time we take a positive pleasure, unalloyed 
by timidity, in repeating the Lord's Prayer. When 
we gaze through our tears at the sky we feel as 
though we were looking into the windows of our 
future home. When we bear the ills of life God's 
goodness drives away the old thought of His wrath, 
and patience and resignation bring a smile to weary 
lips. When the stars come out at night they seem 



THK OTHER UF3 75 

to be lights in the " house not made with hands," 
and the dear ones who have gone are there awaiting 
our coming and the glad reunion which will follow. 

All this is the result of a better understanding of 
the Christ. His words have a new meaning, and 
when we read them in the broad light of our new 
day we breathe pure ozone, and are not only re- 
freshed but purified in thought and feeling, and 
made to rejoice with a joy unspeakable. Religion 
is sunshine, is strength, peace, food, drink, sleep. 
It is a mother's arms enfolding her child. It is the 
helmsman at the wheel; it is the pole star which 
directs our course from shore to shore; it is the 
skilful guide when we toil to reach the mountain's 
summit. 

When the day is done we hear the angels sing, 
' ' He is risen ! ' ' and after the sleep of death we fol- 
low the echo of their voices until the gates are 
reached and heaven changes from a dream to a 
reality. 



EASTER MORNING 

He is not here : for He is risen, as He said. — St. Matthew 
xxviii., 6. 

THERE has never been another morning like 
that ! In all the history of human experience 
it stands alone, conspicuous and awful in its mys- 
tery. A startled world looked into the empty tomb, 
and, while looking, wonder changed to hope, and 
hope became certainty. From that time to this the 
sky has been brighter, the clouds have been radiant 
with reflected sunshine, and the heart of man has 
been cheered by visions of a glorious future. 

The most difficult thing in this lower life is to 
appreciate thoroughly the fact of a higher life, and 
to act with constant reference to it. We are so 
saturated with the spirit of to-day, so entangled in 
the fascinating meshes of the present, so content 
with the pleasures and ambitions of time that the 

future seems more like a romance than a reality. In 

7 6 



KASTKR MORNING 77 

a vague sort of way we believe in a continued ex- 
istence, but we are so concerned about the apparent 
impossibilities connected with it that our faith is 
more or less blurred and marred. We allow ourselves 
to dwell so continuously on the method by which im- 
mortality is to be achieved that we sometimes doubt 
God's ability to keep His promise, and feel that He 
should have told us more about it. So we walk in 
a dense fog, once in a while catching a glimpse of 
the landscape when the fog lifts, and then again 
groping about, not knowing which way to turn. 

The action of Christ under circumstances more 
trying than any we can experience is a rebuke to 
us. He faced life with less calmness than He faced 
death. He grew in spiritual stature after entering 
Gethsemane. He was never more serene than when 
the shadow of the cross fell on Him. He was like 
a star at all other times, but when the nails were 
being driven into the cruel wood He was a blazing 
sun. One cry of human suffering escaped Him, but 
it was the cry of the body, not of the soul. I marvel 
at this. The picture attracts and awes me. In the 
most solemn of all hours He was as peaceful at heart 
as an unruffled sea, and as mighty. He welcomed 



78 HKRAlvD SERMONS 

the shock of death, which terrifies you and me, glad 
that His earthly mission had been accomplished, and 
buoyed by the actual sight — a privilege often granted 
to us also — of the home to which He was hastening. 

Yes, it not infrequently happens that mortals in 
their last extremity, just as kindly death is loosen- 
ing the bonds which unite soul and body, have 
visions of those who will meet them when their 
farewells to earth have been said. Almost every 
family can recite an incident of that kind, and tell 
you how, under its influence, some dear one has 
passed away with a smile on his lips. And why 
should not these things be true if God is really 
our Father and we are really His children ? Why 
should He not send His ministering angels to us at 
such a time, when timid souls touch a strange shore, 
to bid them a welcome into the world of which they 
have dreamed in their loftier moods. 

And if the eyes of the dying may be thus opened, 
why may not the time come when the eyes of the 
living shall be equally blessed ? If heaven is close 
to us, and only a thin partition divides the two 
homes, it must be possible when we become pure 
in heart to hear and see even as the Lord did. It 



RASTER MORNING 79 

will not be too much to ask when we shall so live 
as to merit the privilege. This world presses too 
heavily on our hearts just now, but by and by, 
when we comprehend the significance of the other 
world, it will be very different. 

Your immortal life began before your cradled in- 
fancy. You are in the midst of it at the present 
moment. Mortality and immortality go hand in 
hand for a while up many a steep hill and into 
many a deep valley. It is God's will that they 
shall keep company, that which dies and that which 
cannot die. They are strange comrades, but they 
get on very well together. When the right moment 
arrives they take a tender farewell of each other, 
and then we discover their several peculiarities and 
the curious difference between the two. The mortal 
is weary and worn. It has come up from the dust, 
and longs to get back to it. It has accomplished its 
task, its work is done, and it has deserved the rest 
it seeks. I have no doubt that the body is glad to 
get back to the sod again, that it may help the 
violets to blossom and the grass to grow. But the 
soul is not tired. It has just begun to recognize 
itself. It has plumed its wings for many a short 



8o HERALD SERMONS 

flight, and is ready to soar. It has learned the 
alphabet of life, nothing more, and is prepared to 
study its principles and its mysteries. 

A tired body, a fresh and vigorous soul ! Why 
should they not part company? Let them clasp 
hands in a tender farewell, the one to go back 
whence it came, the other to go forward to achieve 
its great destiny. I do not know why they ever 
came together, this mortal and this immortal, but I 
can see a good reason for their parting and why the 
soul should lay aside its torn and shattered garment 
and be clothed upon with a spiritual body. 

This Kaster morning is whispering about heaven. 
The soft, low voices of angels are sounding in our 
ears. Dear ones from on high are here in our 
earthly homes. They have not forgotten us, for true 
human love, like God's love, never dies; and to-day, 
when all the earth is filled with the echoing words, 
" He is risen," they stretch out invisible hands and 
cry, ' ' We, too, have risen, and }^ou shall rise ! ' ' 

There is no death. Those who have gone are 
more truly and more thoroughly alive than we are, 
and our best life will come when death does us a 
great service and sets us free. 



GREATER THINGS THAN THESE 

Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, 
the works that I do shall he do also. — St. John xiv., 12. 

THESE words are like a chime of bells pealing 
forth the triumphal song of perfected human- 
ity, the humanity that is to be when we get near 
enough to Christ to touch the hem of His garment. 
Or they are like the prophecy of some great seer 
whose eyes penetrate the future, and who tells us of 
the things which will be within reach when we 
slough off this inordinate greed for material gain 
and begin to explore the realm of the spiritual. 

I know nothing in the whole range of Scripture 
more dazzling, more inspiring, than that brief sen- 
tence uttered by One who knew as none other has 
ever known the marvellous capacities of a human 
soul. They shine with so much light that we can- 
not look at them without protected eyes. They 

point to such excellence that we cannot contemplate 

6 81 



82 HERALD SERMONS 

it without wonder and amazement. What a star is 
to the child, that and more is this thought to the 
man. 

It is well-nigh incredible that within us lie 
dormant powers which when developed will so 
transfigure and transform us that what we now call 
miracles will become the soul's daily food. Mir- 
acles, indeed! What we ignorantly call miracles 
are only incidents in perfect accord with a law 
higher than that with which we are acquainted. 
What is impossible to-day will become common- 
place to-morrow. These ' ' greater works ' ' which 
we are to do when we reach the higher spiritual 
level are beyond the reach of my imagination. I 
only know that Christ could not deceive and that 
His promise holds good forever. I therefore 
humbly wait for this new age to appear, with its 
new humanity, and wait in perfect faith that our 
children's children will prove that all the sons of 
God can draw on God's omnipotence to make this 
life wider, deeper, and sweeter than we have ever 
dreamed. 

The world is not yet spiritual. The soul is still 
an unexplored territory. Its command of the bodj^, 



GREATER THINGS THAN THESE 83 

which is merely the appendage of the soul, — not its 
master, but its servant, — and its dominion over the 
elements of earth and air are as yet almost wholly 
undeveloped. I hardly dare think of what lies 
within reach of the soul which is penetrated with 
the spirit of Christ With reverent eyes I look to 
the future, but I can do no more than wonder. The 
soul is asleep, dormant, sluggish. We know little 
about it, though it is the chief part of us, the only 
enduring part. When it awakes, recognizes itself, 
begins to exercise its powers, heaven will come 
nearer to us and earth will be brighter. A new life 
will be ours, as different from the present as the 
trained scholar is different from the untutored 
savage. 

It is deeply rooted in our inner consciousness that 
we are slowly moving toward these high achieve- 
ments. There is nothing in the heart of man so 
grand and uplifting as the firm faith in our ability 
constantly to outgrow ourselves. We are limitless 
in capacity, and that thought is the highest inspira- 
tion. Whence comes this thought, whence comes 
this faith in ourselves ? It must have its origin out- 
side of ourselves. When He breathed into us the 



84 HERALD SERMONS 

breath of His own life, at that moment the thought 
and the faith opened the door and entered our being, 
never more to depart. The God within must ever 
seek the God without until the two become one. It 
is this imperfect life which makes another life neces- 
sary, for otherwise there can be no completeness to 
the soul. But once let the two worlds interpene- 
trate each other and nothing more can be required 
to make it possible to fulfil our great destiny. 

Let me illustrate: That interesting little creature, 
the bee practically lives in two worlds. The one, 
that of the hive, is finite, while the other is infinite. 
In the hive it stores its treasures, establishes a 
community governed by decrees, its head a queen. 
Scientists tell us that invaders are repelled with 
courage, that customs are established, and that in- 
fractions are met with severity. Its other world 
stretches from the door of the hive to the horizon 
line, and this world produces the honey which is 
gathered in minute particles and makes it possible 
for the bee to live through the winter. It carries 
into its narrow house the sunshine which warms the 
air through which it wings its way to its daily dask. 

The soul, like the bee, must have two worlds, and 



GREATER THINGS THAN THESE 85 

it must make excursions into that other world and 
bring back the thoughts it suggests or it can never 
be its best self. A soul without a heaven is a soul 
living in the dark. It is heaven which gives us our 
diviner impulses, our holier aspirations, and fills 
this narrow earthly life with sweetness and beauty. 
It is from heaven that those influences come 
which so develop and expand our natures that the 
future grows brighter as we travel toward it. And 
in that future, if the spirit of Christ is in us, we 
shall live amid those higher laws whose product we 
now call miracles, 



WHEN SHALL WE WALK BY SIGHT? 

I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot 
bear them now. — St. John xvi., 12. 

'TVHE world has had in any given age as much 
* truth as it was able to bear. A truth mis- 
understood is the equivalent of an untruth, just as 
firearms in the hands of a child are a danger. 
When a person has acquired the due amount of in- 
telligence he may be safely intrusted with a gun, 
but ignorance will not escape inj ury from it. When 
men have reached that period of evolution which 
demands new truths they have somehow come as 
lightning came out of the cloud at the bidding of 
Franklin. New truths seem to be concealed from 
us until we have special use for them, and then in- 
spired lips are unsealed and the revelation is made. 
We have never been able to bear any larger know- 
ledge of the immortal life than we have possessed, 

86 



WHEN SHALL WE WALK BY SIGHT? 87 

and it has therefore been denied to us. We have 
not been sufficiently developed, either intellectually 
or spiritually, to endure the blazing light, and so 
the curtains have been drawn down, the full sun- 
shine has been shut out, and we have seen "through 
a glass darkty." Our conception of the future has 
been heretofore of the vaguest character. We have 
believed in another life, and our belief has lightened 
the burden and set a rainbow against our tears, and 
filled us with a yearning after the departed which 
has robbed death of its terrors, but our ideas have 
been indefinite and confused, and we have been un- 
able to discuss the subject even with ourselves. 

Why is this so ? It has given us great pain at 
times, and we have sighed as though immortality 
might after all prove to be a dream, beautiful, up- 
lifting, but still a dream. Why have we had so 
little knowledge, and incorrect knowledge, of that 
life to which we are all hastening? In my poor 
judgment it is an added evidence of the wise plan 
on which all things are conducted. Christ's words 
recur to me, and I feel sure that we have heretofore 
known all that we could bear, all that we were fitted 
to make use of. We get what we need at the time 



88 HKRALD SERMONS 

we need it and are prepared for it. If this is true 
along the historic path of material progress, it is 
equally true in the realm of religion. 

To the untutored or undisciplined mind a perfect 
revelation of what heaven is and of the environment 
of the soul in that other world would be incalculable 
unwisdom, and in the great majority of cases a posi- 
tive and alarming injury. This life has a divine 
purpose; but that purpose would be wholly defeated 
if our knowledge of the future were suddenly en- 
larged. The heavy burdens we bear, the struggles 
in which we are engaged, the bitter tears we are 
forced to shed, the disappointment of our fondest 
hopes which we are compelled to endure, are all 
blows of the hammer and chisel which shape the 
rough block of marble into a priceless statue. Life 
as at present constituted would be incomplete with- 
out hardship and sorrow. It may not always be so, 
but it is so now. To those who find it specially 
difficult to use their troubles for a high end and who 
at times sink in despair, a perfect knowledge of the 
other world might prove the irresistible temptation 
to commit a crime. The universal dread of death 
and this uncertainty concerning the future is one of 



WHEN SHALL WE WALK BY SIGHT? 89 

the strongest safeguards of the present life. We 
bear the ills we have and gain a sweeter character 
by our patience and endurance; whereas, if we knew 
more we might cross the border line through sheer 
desperation and so lose the very object for which we 
were placed in this lower world. 

But the time is coming when we shall know more 
because we can bear more. I can see the first 
streaks of light above the hilltops, and am sure that 
by and by the fogs and mists in which we now dwell 
will be swept away by the light of a brighter if not 
of a perfect day. God's revelations come no faster 
than they are called for. Christ meant a great deal 
when He declared, " I have yet many things to say 
unto you," and I think He has been saying them 
one by one through the ages, giving in proportion 
to our ability to bear, and adding nothing more 
when the limit of our ability to use was reached. 
Many things have been told to our fathers, more 
has been told to us, and much more will be told to 
our children's children. 

Are we prepared for an actual demonstration of 
the immortal life ? I know we long for it, hunger 
and thirst for it, and pray for it, but would it be 



90 HKRAIvD SERMONS 

safe to answer that prayer ? Are we in a condition 
of mind and soul to bear the truth, or would it 
prove too much for us ? Can you look at the sun ? 
Can you inwardly digest the absolute certainty of 
another life ? If immortality were no longer a mat- 
ter of faith, but a fact so clearly proved that denial 
would be impossible, j ust as it would be impossible 
to deny the law of gravitation, could you stand the 
strain ? The longing is a hint that we are in pro- 
cess of preparation, but the change in our outlook, 
in our motives, would be so great that we should 
not become accustomed to the new order of things in 
many years. 

I know that Christ did not walk by faith but by 
knowledge. He lived in the future and drew 
strength from it. The to-morrow of heaven lifted 
the burden of each sorrowful to-day. At some 
period in our development, how far distant I know 
not, we shall have a new heaven, and that will give 
us a new earth. Our sight will not be dim, but 
clear. We shall not hope that our loved ones are 
near, for we shall know it to be true. This life of 
simple faith is beautiful, and we have trod many a 
difficult path under its benign influence. But at 



WH£N SHAU, W£ WAX,K BY SIGHT? 9 1 

last — aye, ere long, perhaps — heaven and earth will 
touch each other. We shall be prepared for the 
greater truth, and the dear I,ord will send some 
messenger to announce it. God is always present 
in His world, and He will tell us more when we are 
able to endure it. Until then keep your faith pure 
and watch the coming of the morning. 



YOUR SOUI, 

My soul cleaveth unto the dust. — Psalm cxix., 25. 

HPHERE is one fact which startles me every time 
* I think of it, namely, that my soul is merely 
a tenant of my body and will some time move out of 
it, When that happens the body may be sorry to 
part with its companion, but the soul will be glad 
to get beyond all physical limitations. 

We are not as enthusiastic over this fact as we 
should be, because we do not fully appreciate it. 
Neither do we appreciate the sunshine, for the 
simple reason that it comes to us as a matter of 
course and is so abundant. If we were living on 
the moon, where every night is a month long, we 
should keenly watch for the coming of each day, 
and gather in multitudes on the hilltops to catch its 
first rays and wonder at the glory of the dawn. As 

it is, the sun is so generous with its gifts that we 

92 



YOUR SOUL 93 

neither stop to think of our dependence on it nor 
consider it necessary to be grateful because it fills 
the broad earth with harvests. 

I venture to say that for a like reason God is 
neglected by us. If He were not so good we should 
look to Him more frequently. His excess of kind- 
ness blinds us to the fact that He is at all kind. If 
He were a mere despot, like the fabled deities of 
Olympus, and we were forced to placate Him, to win 
His favor by sacrifices, we should keep in mind the 
value of His helpfulness and make it a point before 
every undertaking to win His favor. But since He 
loves us even as a father loves his children, and 
gives His angels charge concerning us, in constant 
solicitude lest we stumble, we appreciate very little 
that He has done, and in our prayers ask for more. 

There is no mystery in creation which equals the 
union of a body and a soul, and yet nine tenths of 
our time is given to the body and the remaining one 
tenth is grudgingly given to the soul. We could 
hardly be more devoted to the body if it were all 
we have and there were no soul. This is a curious 
fact ; it is a puzzle, it is a marvel. To guard a 
copper penny with constant vigilance and pay no 



94 H£RAlvD SKRMONS 

attention to a coin of gold would be regarded as un- 
mixed folly. It would indicate ignorance of com- 
parative values. And yet an observant visitor from 
another planet who should watch our daily lives 
would say that we have not discovered that there 
is such a thing as a soul. In many cases his con- 
clusion would be justified. 

All the religion that I care for is contained in the 
simple injunction, " Remember that you have a soul, 
and govern yourself accordingly. " I want very 
little more than that for the proper conduct of my 
life. If I obey I shall be kept busy during the full 
term of my mortal life, and shall have no time to 
discuss theological details. That injunction is to 
me what his crown is to a king — the symbol of 
sovereignty. And as the acceptance of a crown 
involves the duty of living a kingly life, so my 
acknowledgment of the possession of something that 
cannot die involves a responsibility which ought 
to make me broad-shouldered, large-hearted, and 
noble. 

Think of it ! You can live such a life that you 
can see visions, and the doors of heaven will swing 
on their hinges and give you a glimpse of the future 



YOUR SOUIv 95 

long before you reach its threshold. You can, if 
your soul rather than your body dominates you, 
reach such a stage that there will be another Jacob's 
ladder in your life, with angels ascending and de- 
scending. There is no reason that I can see why 
your soul, though embodied, should not be visited 
in friendly, helpful fashion by souls that have be- 
come disembodied by death. 

Do I state this deliberately as a firm conviction ? 
Most assuredly; and so rich is that conviction in 
inspiration and encouragement that I would sooner 
part with everything else I possess rather than sur- 
render it. And the conviction is well grounded, 
and is sanctioned by every page of the Testament, 
the Old and the New alike. Take that element out 
of the Bible, and you have very little left. Take it 
out of the story of the Christ, and you lose 3^our 
interest in it. I do not know of any form of re- 
ligion, in any age or clime, which has not that fact 
as its chief corner-stone. Indeed, I cannot conceive 
of a religion which drops a veil down between us 
and heaven. We should walk in darkness. Men 
of science tell us that if the sun were blotted out 
everything would be instantly frozen solid; and, in 



96 HERALD SERMONS 

like manner, if you blot that fact out of our religion 
we should be no better than a multitude of icicles. 

I must therefore look after the welfare of my soul 
with vigilant care. I will not be like the man who 
spends all his money in embellishing the room he 
lives in and then starves himself, but like one who 
regards his house as his home for a while, but 
thinks more of his intellectual and spiritual culture 
than of any outward adornments. 

I am immortal ! I should never forget it, but 
should carry myself as one who cherishes that 
truth. No matter what my conditions in life may 
be, whether I be poor or rich, learned or unlettered, 
well or ill, struggling or at leisure, I am immortal. 
I shall outlive my body and my sorrows, my tears 
and my sighs, all hardships and heartbreakings, 
for God— my God — will help me through it all, and 
His Christ has prepared a place for me where I shall 
dwell in peace and be at rest. 



A KERNEL OF CORN 

I am the resurrection, and the life. — St. John xi., 25. 

THE relation of this life to the next is a mystery- 
very difficult to understand. Why it should 
be necessary for us to pass a certain length of time 
in this preliminary stage of existence before we are 
transferred to a larger and wider sphere is a very 
puzzling question. 

Some good and thoughtful people are of the 
opinion that there are various planes of work and 
experience and that this earthly life is only one in 
the long series which ends in " the third heaven" 
of which St. Paul speaks, or the "heaven of 
heavens" to which the Old Testament refers. Of 
this, however, I say nothing, because I know 
nothing. Whatever else there may be in store for 
us besides this immediate life and the life which is 

97 



98 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

close at hand is to me a matter of very little conse- 
quence. Speculation may be profitable to some, 
but so far as I am concerned I am quite indifferent. 
The two lives, to-day's and to-morrow's, entirely 
satisfy my craving, and I am too busy with present 
preparation for an indefinite future to be disturbed 
by the various theories of various scholars. I am 
satisfied that I am getting ready for something 
which God will give me by and by, and so my mind 
and heart are quite at rest. 

There must be a special meaning in the words of 
the text, and if we can discover it we shall bear the 
ills to which flesh and soul are heirs with all the 
more fortitude and resignation. Christ is the source 
of spiritual resurrection ! Without some close rela- 
tion to His revelation of law we cannot reach the 
consummation of our highest thoughts and aspira- 
tions. All that happens here, both tears and joys, 
life and the loss of life in death — if Christ and we 
walk side by side, and if His outlook becomes ours — 
so enriches and develops the soul that immortality 
will not be strange to us when we cross its thres- 
hold. Christ in us is the element of growth, the 
energy of an evolution, which in time will broaden 



A KERNEL OF CORN 99 

and deepen the higher nature and bring us into 
harmony with God's great universe. 

Let me illustrate. I place a kernel of corn in the 
ground. That kernel contains possibilities which 
are beyond computation. We wonder wiry it is im- 
portant thus to bury it, and wonder more when told 
that by doing so we are really giving to it a new 
and better life. We have learned, however, that if 
it is not planted it will remain a simple and single 
kernel forever, while if we do bury it it will in the 
autumn present us with a stalk bearing full ears of 
corn. 

The moment w r e bury that kernel it begins to ab- 
sorb something. It throbs with ambitious hopes 
and feels within itself the power of indefinite growth. 
It puts forth its energy, sends down its roots, sends 
up its shoots, drinks in what the soil so freely gives, 
uses the energizing mystery of sunshine and dew, 
and by dying to its existence as a kernel enters on 
another existence, larger and better. 

The sun could look down on that buried kernel 
and say, ' ' I am your resurrection and your life. 
Without me 3 t ou would be nothing and could be 
nothing." Every word of that statement would be 

LofC. 



IOO HERALD SERMONS 

literally true. There is nothing figurative about 
it. It contains no metaphor, but an actual fact. 
Without the sun the kernel would be so chilled that 
growth would be impossible. The warm rays 
kindle its inner and dormant life, fill it with the 
hope to achieve its mission, tell it what its destiny 
is, and encourage it to achieve that destiny. The 
very storms which beat on the stalk when it is com- 
ing to maturity force it to send its roots deeper in 
order to keep itself unbroken, and the showers of 
rain which so gratefully quench its thirst and make 
it vigorous are all secondary causes from the first 
great cause, the sun. If the cornstalk is conscious 
of its origin and mission, if it obeys the law of its 
being, it absorbs what is necessary to make it strong 
and rejects what will make it weak, and in doing so 
becomes mature, bearing in its arms such abundance 
that the farmer is repaid for his toil during the cool 
spring months. 

So with the soul of man. It is planted in this life 
amid many disagreeable contingencies, but they are 
all necessary to its development. The soil is in 
many respects repulsive, and we wonder why things 
are as they are. Our ignorance cannot grasp the 



A KERNIX OF CORN IOI 

wisdom of God, and we ask, " Why ? " a thousand 
and a thousand times. But the Christ above us is 
the sunshine that warms our experiences until they 
give us of their hidden energy. Our tears are the 
falling dew ; our struggles are the storms which 
send our roots deeper. He, the Sun, is our resur- 
rection, bringing to the surface of character the 
strongest elements that lie hidden within us. He, 
the Sun, is also the life of our life, for He tells us 
how to grow, what to absorb, and what to reject. 

The soul that lives in Him has a kind of life that 
is fruitful, and when that soul has produced its crop 
of good deeds and holy thoughts the God of all the 
earth will lift it into a nobler life and give it a 
grander task and a wider opportunity. 



UKE AN APPI,E TRKK 

For every tree is known by his own fruit. — St. I/uke vi., 44. 

HPHE word tree occurs in the Bible many scores 
* of times. It seems to lend itself with peculiar 
grace and force to any reference to the spiritual 
nature of man. The good are compared to trees on 
a river's bank, where sustenance is plentiful, their 
roots striking deep into the rich soil and their 
branches bearing abundant fruit. The wicked are 
referred to as trees in a barren soil, whose roots are 
parched with thirst and whose branches bear noth- 
ing better than withered fruit. 

I remember one summer afternoon spent in an 
orchard under an apple tree which was greatly 
prized by the farmer. I was in that impressionable 
mood when one seems to be influenced by two 
worlds — the visible, which appeals to the senses, 
and the invisible, which appeals to the imagination. 



UKE AN APPLE TREE 103 

I was in God's larger temple, and unseen acolytes 
were swinging a censer which filled the air with the 
perfume of new-mown hay and fragrant blossoms. 
The tree that sheltered me was a type and symbol 
of human life, and the lesson it taught I have 
never forgotten. 

First, its roots sank deep in the soil and were 
hourly fed in the mysterious laboratory of nature, 
just as the soul's roots go down into the productive 
faith which nourishes it. The soil of that orchard 
was apparently commonplace, and even offensive, 
and in like manner the experiences of life are ap- 
parently unworthy of notice and incapable of pro- 
ducing any worthy or noble or highly valued result. 

In a way so strange that no man can follow it, 
that tree drew from the black loam the nutriment 
of its growth and strength and development. It was 
filled with the vigorous sap of life, and like a giant 
was able to resist the tempest and the storm. So 
can the soul draw the elements of sterling manhood 
and womanhood from the ordinary events of every 
day. To look on the happenings which have fallen 
to your lot, you naturally conclude that your life is 
hardly worth the living. No greatness is possible 



104 HERALD SKRMONS 

under such circumstances. The longings within 
you cannot be satisfied, for you do not fit your sur- 
roundings, and your surroundings do not fit you. 
The tree would say the same of the soil if it were 
gifted with speech and intelligence, for nothing can 
seem further away from a ripe apple than a spadeful 
of dirt. And yet, behold the tree engaged in its 
daily task. There are the green leaves, there are 
the blossoms, with a tint not to be found on any 
painter's palette, and in the frosty October the ripe 
fruit will drop from the branches. 

From your poor and ordinary life you can produce 
results which rival those of the tree when you learn 
the tree's secret. The tree does its best with what 
it has, and is satisfied. While doing its best the 
miracle takes place, and you find a leaf, a fragrant 
blossom, a ripe apple. You are surprised, for how 
could they come from such a soil ? Still, there they 
are, and if you taste the apple you will see that it is 
real and ripe and luscious. So, from the common- 
places of life the soul, when its roots are embedded 
in the rich soil of faith, can evolve a character very 
like an archangel's. Common tears and common 
smiles and common struggles can, like a sculptor's 



UKE AN APPI.E TREE 105 

chisel, give us such a shape of symmetry that God 
will welcome us to heaven with a "Well done, good 
and faithful servant." 

Second, I thought of something else and some- 
thing grander as I lay there on the grass, for I was 
tired and troubled, and perhaps a bit discouraged, 
as we are all apt to be at times. The leaves, the 
blossoms, the fruit, and what then ? Have I learned 
my lesson in full, or is there more to know ? The 
nipping frost will come to the tree and to me, and 
after that the orchard will have its coverlet of snow 
and will fall asleep, as I shall also. No more leaves, 
no more blossoms, no more fruit ? Has the whole 
story been told ? Does the winter end all time as it 
ends the year ? Not with the apple tree certainly — 
then why with me? Shall I fall while the tree con- 
tinues to flourish ? 

There is a spring, a glorious spring, ahead. The 
snows will melt, the frosts will be killed by sun- 
shine, the sluggish ground will wake up, the warm 
rains will start the sap in that old trunk once more, 
there will be new leaves waving above the grave of 
the fallen, new blossoms in place of those which have 
changed to apples, and new fruit in the new October. 



106 HERALD SERMONS 

And as for myself ? If I have resembled the tree 
thus far, shall the resemblance cease when the frost 
comes? Do I bear fruit but once? Then were it 
scarce worth my while to bear fruit at all. For me, 
too, there is a spring, — the spring of immortality, — 
and in that better clime I shall grow as here I can- 
not grow, and bear such fruit as I have never yet 
dreamed of. The grave is simply my winter. I 
shall sleep, but I shall be wakened. The snow will 
cover my body, but not my soul. The thought is 
a benediction and an inspiration. I seem like one 
who is ready to drop by the wayside through sheer 
weariness of strife, but who hears distant music, 
and, knowing that the Home is not far off, takes 
new heart of courage. 

Out of the commonplaces of this earthly life, ac- 
cepted in good faith as from the providence of God, 
and used with prayerful and careful skill, is shaped 
that character which must have an immortal life for 
its further development. The man who faces to- 
day with calm resignation and keeps a high purpose 
in mind will find that heaven has come to him before 
it is time for him to go to heaven. 



LITTLK DUTIES 

Well, thou good servant : because thou hast been faithful 
in a very little, have thou authority over ten cities. — St. 
Luke six., 17. 

TN the sight of God the magnitude of the work 
* given 3 r ou to do is of small importance, but the 
faithfulness with which you do it is the prime con- 
cern. If you are endowed with genius, you must 
produce the results which genius predicts, and if 
you have only one talent to care for, then only 
one talent's worth of duty will be required. The 
amount of ability j^ou have is the gift of nature, 
and you can take no credit to 3^ourself for its pos- 
session. But the use you make of your faculties 
depends wholly on yourself, and therein lies your 
merit or demerit. 

When you take your place among men the) 7 
judge 3'ou both by what God has given you and by 

what you have done for yourself. But when God 

107 



108 HERALD SERMONS 

judges you He eliminates from the problem of your 
worthiness the gifts He gave you, and approves or 
disapproves according to the work you have done 
or failed to do with those gifts. You are reckoned 
among the great by your fellows if you have done 
great things with great faculties, but you are 
equally great in heaven if you have done the best 
you could with slender faculties. Therein lies the 
vast difference between the verdict of men and the 
verdict of the Almighty. And since our happiness 
hereafter depends not so much on the kind of work 
we do as on the way in which we do it, we can 
afford to banish envy and covetousness, and satisfy 
ourselves with the honest toil which at the end of 
the day will bring us His words of welcome into 
another life. 

When men estimate our worth, motives count for 
little and actual results for much. This is because 
our judgment is narrow. With God, actual results 
count for little and motives for much. Thus, a 
really heroic man may live so remote that the 
world's eye never rests on him, and he may go on 
from little day to little day, and at last drop out of 
sight without ever hearing his name mentioned. 



UTTI«E DUTIES 109 

His fellows have a false standard, and, measured by 
that standard, he is no more than a dropping leaf or 
a flake of snow. It is not so, however, with God. 
Some of the saintliest characters which this earthly 
life produces are known only in heaven. They are 
formed in the humblest and most obscure surround- 
ings, and are appreciated only by their intimates, 
but in heaven they will stand in the front rank of 
noble souls. They have had little to do, but a 
great deal to bear. Their sphere of labor has been 
confined to a hard struggle with adversity, to the 
endurance of pinching poverty, to service at the 
bedside of an afflicted loved one, but they have 
found the presence of God there, and they have 
been visited by the angels, and their poor human 
nature has been enriched and mellowed and ripened. 
Their possessions have consisted of faith and love 
and fidelity. But when the other life opens to their 
view they will find that they are ready for its op- 
portunities, and that they need no further prepara- 
tion to enter upon its duties and to make use of its 
privileges. 

I want to say, therefore, that wherever you are 
and whatever you are doing, if you are with the 



IIO HERALD SKRMONS 

L,ord and He is with you, you should be more than 
satisfied. Wealth and fame are myths, delusive 
myths, which, by a sort of hallucination, we think 
much of, but of which the angels think very little, 
while character, purity of heart, faithfulness to 
duty, which by another hallucination we think very 
little of, are thought much of in heaven. 

If you have a piece of delicate and intricate 
machinery it would not be well to say that the large 
wheels are more important than the little ones, for 
each is of equal importance with all the others. If 
your watch is faulty in any one part it is faulty in 
all parts. The perfection of the whole depends on 
the perfection of each minute portion, and it would 
be folly for any small bit of machinery to declare 
that it was of no special value and could do as it 
pleased. It must be pleased to do its duty, though 
it is a duty so small that it is never seen except with 
the microscope of the maker. Otherwise the whole 
watch is practically worthless. 

In the spiritual universe of God the same rule 
prevails. There is no such thing as a little life or 
an insignificant life. No one can do as he pleases, 
but all must do as God pleases, for then only can 



UTrc,£ DUTlKS ill 

God's great plan be perfected. You are needed by 
the Most High, and though you be the humblest of 
the humble, with nothing to do and all to bear, with 
such narrow quarters that no one can find you ex- 
cept the angels, still, as God's child, with earth 
growing dim and heaven growing brighter every 
day, you are making for yourself a bright and 
glorious future, and when you reach the other shore 
and look back you will see that your soul has needed 
nothing but an opportunity to grow, and that your 
quiet and perhaps lonely life has afforded that op- 
portunity in abundance. We must therefore be 
brave and faithful to the end, and then the hand of 
God will lead us to our reward. 



UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCE 

For none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to 
himself. — Romans xiv., 7. 

QOMEBODY has said that thoughts are things. 
^ The phrase is unfortunate, because it is mis- 
leading and inaccurate. This world is made up of 
things and forces. Thoughts are more subtle than 
mere things and far more potential, They are 
forces which change a man's life for better or for 
worse. 

If you apply the principles of wireless telegraphy 
to spiritual concerns you will see the full scope of 
my statement. We may safely do this, for there is 
a spiritual law running parallel to every physical 
law, and no man can discover a physical law with- 
out suggesting a corresponding spiritual law. In 
this way all thinkers stand shoulder to shoulder, 

lifting the world out of the old into the new. 

112 



UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCE 113 

The wireless telegrapher tells us that a word or its 
equivalent creates a vibration of the air, as a peb- 
ble creates a ripple in the pond, and this vibration 
speeds on its way to the destined terminus, however 
distant, and there makes itself known and felt. We 
are living in an age of miracles, or, in other words, 
an age of discovery, and this is one of the startling 
results. 

In like manner a word of scorn or of praise hurled 
into the spiritual universe from a heart that loves 
or hates becomes a living force, not lost in the gen- 
eral confusion as a single note is lost in the mul- 
titude of sounds, but going straight to the man 
or woman against whom or in favor of whom it is 
directed. That other heart at the farther end of 
the line, perhaps half broken by remorse or timidly 
hoping for better days, is the receiving station of 
this wireless telegraphy. Your thought, critical or 
gentle, strikes that other heart with an impact 
which either hurts or helps. You may not know 
that your thought has taken its flight, that other 
person may not know whence it comes, but all the 
same he is uplifted or depressed by it. 

This may seem strange and even incredible, but, 



114 HERALD SERMONS 

while it is to-day a possible fact, it may to-morrow 
become a demonstrated truth, and the next day it 
may change the whole outlook of the spiritual 
world. It has the appearance of a miracle, but pro- 
founder knowledge always seems miraculous, while 
in realit}' we only climb from the lower to the 
higher realm of law, see farther, and understand 
God better. 

A spoken thought is even now recognized as a 
force when speaker and hearer are within earshot of 
each other. An oath, a compliment, a bit of vocal 
flatter}^, goes through the ear to the heart and kindles 
a flame of resentment or of happiness. What you 
say becomes part of another man's life and excites 
passion or stimulates friendship. Why may there 
not be a quicker transit than the slow and dull ear 
affords ? Why may not the time come when we can 
convey our thoughts without the coarse medium of 
words ? There are no words between us and heaven. 
A prayer is a longing of the soul, ' ' uttered or un- 
expressed." God speaks to hearts. The impres- 
sion is instantaneous, as when the sun makes its 
mark on the photographer's plate. There are "un- 
seen beings who walk the earth both when we wake 



UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCE II5 

and when we sleep," but they use no words. They 
make us feel their presence, and we are as sure that 
they are close by as though we heard a trumpet 
call. What they would say steals into the heart, 
for our poor ears cannot catch it. We hear nothing, 
but we know that they are giving us a helping 
hand. Is there any language in heaven except that 
of thoughts ? 

When the world grows older why may we not 
speak to each other without this cumbersome factor 
of spoken words? Progress is indefinite and in- 
finite, and we are moving in that direction. We 
catch glimpses of the possible already. A look, a 
pressure of the hand, and sympathy or contempt are 
complete. Enlarge the circumference and you have 
a new truth. No one needed to tell the Christ what 
he thought. He read the heart as an open book. 
He looked at a man and the man's story was already 
told. Lips had nothing to do with it. The Master 
felt the woes and shared the joys of humanity. A 
subtler language than we can use was at His 
command. 

A thought is the wireless message of soul to soul. 
Your neighbor's welfare is affected by your kind 



Il6 HERALD SERMONS 

or unkind criticism of him. When we deal with 
subtle and far-reaching forces of this kind, then re- 
ligion, which enjoins charity, is brought to the fore- 
front as the most important factor in human life. 
If 3 t ou would be at your best you must love your 
neighbor, for your thought of him will either lift 
him up or trip him to a fall. The whole trend and 
swing of the universe bid a man to be honest, just, 
and gentle, for we are so bound together that nobil- 
itj 7 in one kindles nobility in all, and one man's 
hurt is an injury to all. Since we are marching, 
one great Compaq-, from time to eternity, let us go 
as brothers, with a kindly word and a helping hand 
whenever opportunity offers. 



CHRISTMAS MORNING 

We have seen His star in the East, and are come to wor- 
ship Him.— St. Matthew ii., 2. 

/^HRIST struck the keynote of the soul's 
^-^ highest development. On the Judean hill- 
side His voice sounded clear and strong, to 
the wonderment and amazement of His hearers, 
and it has reverberated through the ages, to the 
wonderment and amazement of every generation 
since. 

We have been practising this new music for many 
a century, sometimes with a feeble degree of success, 
but oftentimes in blundering and unsatisfactory 
fashion. We dimly appreciate its beauties and are 
secretly convinced that when we can put His re- 
vealed thoughts into daily life, into social and civic 
institutions, we shall reach the perfect stature of 

the perfect man ; but progress is so slow that 

117 



Il8 HERALD SERMONS 

despair treads on the heels of effort, and in some 
moods we wonder if that ideal religion is not, after 
all, a beautiful dream never to be realized. The 
world moves with a very faltering step toward 
brotherly love. The love of self is still victor, and 
the millennium of peace on earth and good-will 
toward men is only occasionally seen, and then as a 
vision of ecstatic possibility too distant for any hope 
to reach it. 

But the world is still young. We play with toys 
of wealth and fame in the eagerness of childhood, 
but we are moving on, growing in stature, broaden- 
ing in our outlook, and can once in a while catch a 
glimpse of heaven. Centuries are simply seconds 
in eternity, and as they pass we climb to a higher 
level, slowly and painfully, but still we climb. By 
and by we shall understand the Christ, and in that 
glorious moment we shall try to live His life. Then 
all will be changed. We shall no longer be children 
with toys, but full-grown men with God's work to 
do and hearts eager to do it. 

What could be more appropriate or more symboli- 
cal of the divine purpose than the circumstances at- 
tending the advent of Christ ? It was not the royal 



CHRISTMAS MORNING 119 

entry of a philosophy, but the incoming of a religion 
which held two worlds in its arms, welcoming this 
life, with its duties, and looking forward to the 
peace and progress of eternity. The poverty of the 
manger and the stable were typical of the estimate 
in which an immortal soul holds that greed of gain, 
that hunger for wealth which has robbed us of con- 
science and honor. The shepherds who followed 
the guiding light and brought frankincense and 
myrrh represented the upward glance of humanity 
— the aspirations of the spirit when in thought- 
ful mood. The angels who gathered, a mighty 
host, and sang their overture of welcome, were 
a proof positive that those above are interested 
in the welfare of those below, and are ever 
ready to overshadow us with their heavenly 
presence. 

Christ came at great cost to Himself and out of a 
boundless love for mankind, to give us a new 
impulse, the impulse of a new inlook and outlook. 
The world gazed upward with a clear vision for the 
first time, and what it saw has become a part of its 
life. We are just beginning to understand that 
personal integrity is a jewelled crown which the 



120 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

poorest of earth may win and wear ; that honesty 
of purpose lies at the foundation of happiness ; that 
peace is better than war, and that omnipotence and 
purity of heart are closely allied. Our dim eyes 
look to the stars when the home is saddened by 
death, and a fragrant hope, not to be denied, leads 
us to look forward to another home in another clime 
where we shall greet the departed who have always 
come at our call, though their dear forms have been 
invisible. All the centuries that have passed since 
that first Christmas morning have ripened mankind 
as a field of wheat is ripened in the sunshine, and 
as we think of our privileges and blessings the 
Christ stands near by to whisper, " I am the way, 
the truth, and the life." 

One can live comfortably and profitably if he has 
faith to call upon as a child calls on its father. 
Events and experiences arrange themselves as parts 
of a great plan ; they have a meaning which it is 
our duty to discover and make use of. Faith is the 
only thing in the universe that gives good cheer 
when otherwise we should be in despair. The man 
of faith stands erect when the man of doubt bends 
and breaks. Faith fills to-day with the hope of to- 



CHRISTMAS MORNING 121 

morrow, and we go to sleep in the certainty of 
waking in a better land. 

Christmas morning is the symbol of all this and 
of much more that cannot be disclosed because there 
is no language in which it may be expressed. 



TO SERVE GOD 

And thou, Solomon my son, know thou the God of thy 
father, and serve him with a perfect heart and with a willing 
mind. — i Chronicles xxviii., 9. 

T TOW differently we look on life at different 
* * periods ! We really live three or four kinds 
of life between the cradle and the grave. 

In early youth, for example, the days go with 
leaden feet. From the half-holiday in the middle 
of the week to the other half-holiday at its end 
seems to be a small section of eternity. The hours 
of boyhood are longer than the months of manhood. 
In later years, on the other hand, when the coins 
in the treasury of time have grown to be small in 
number, we rush by the weeks as we rush by the 
telegraph poles when on an express train. 

But what an exquisite season our youth is ! The 

boy opens his eyes on a beautiful world, and every 

passing moment is a special delight. He is in 

122 



TO SERVE GOD 1 23 

harmony with the universe and joins in the chorus 
as the morning stars sing together. He may not 
appreciate the situation, but he is charmed by it. 
He wants to live forever, and the thought of death 
chills, possibly terrifies him. In the full and mag- 
nificent flow of physical vitality, he dreams great 
dreams, builds castles in the air of which no archi- 
tect could make a definite plan, and is happier than 
any language can express. It is ordained that we 
shall begin our long career in that way. 

When manhood comes stealing on with slippered 
feet the dreams fade away and we stand face to face 
with grave and stern realities. We need muscle of 
body and muscle of mind to do our work. Dis- 
appointments check our hoped-for progress, and so 
far as this world is concerned we feel sure of very 
little. The optimism of earlier days gives way, and 
the tendency, both spiritual and mental, is in the 
direction of a mild kind of pessimism which is as 
harmful as a drop of poisonous acid in a glass of 
pure spring-water. We are all of us conscious of 
this, and we all of us yield to it in some degree 
unless we know of a well from which we can draw 
water without the accompanying drop of poison. 



124 HERALD SERMONS 

I venture the assertion that it is impossible for 
any man to go through life keeping a cheerful tem- 
per and a trusting heart unless he has that series of 
uplifting thoughts which it is the privilege of our 
religion to furnish. But with those thoughts in his 
firm possession he is superior to any possible experi- 
ence. I,ife makes one tired, but religion is like the 
sweet sleep from which he rises refreshed. I,ife 
makes one hungry, but religion is like the food 
which nourishes the worn tissues. Life is a stormy 
season, but religion is the sun that breaks through 
the clouds and floods the landscape with longed-for 
light and heat. 

It would be folly to deny that from morning to 
evening we have a hard day's work. It is not easy 
to live comfortably or serenely ; it is impossible to 
do so without religion of some kind. Your very 
health depends largely on your state of mind, and 
when your mind has soared to that realm in which 
your God dwells, not only does your body respond, 
but your whole outlook undergoes a change. If 
you look up and see nothing but darkness, the 
shadow of that darkness englooms your days ; but 
if your upward gaze discovers God and immortality 



TO S3RVE GOD 125 

your pathway becomes light, even though it be 
rugged and difficult. If there is nothing ahead of 
you, if graves are simply graves and nothing more, 
if broken ties shall remain forever broken, your 
mental attitude produces a depression which is close 
to despair. But if, on the contrary, you are con- 
vinced that the universe has a Master, and that 
your road to a better world lies through struggles as 
well as joys, through tears as well as smiles, and if 
by faith you can look forward to rest, to higher 
activities, to reunion, there comes into the soul a 
something, a dynamic energy, a cheering force 
which makes despair impossible and changes de- 
spondency to hope. 

This kind of religion is what the boy needs when 
passing through the formative period, when he is 
laying the foundations of a character. It does not 
interfere with his joyousness, it is not a cloud 
in his sky, but an additional source of physical 
happiness. 

It is what the man needs when he is in the midst 
of affairs and when the pessimistic forces are at 
work. It illumines his ideal, as a white statue is 
illumined by a calcium light, and teaches him that 



126 H3RAIJ} SERMONS 

loyalty to eternal things is better than the gainful 
success which he must leave behind him. 

It is what old age needs when it faces the inevita- 
ble, for it opens the door of the future and discloses 
such radiant facts that death is only a sweet sleep 
from which the soul rises to cross the threshold of 
eternal life. Religion crowns all periods of life with 
hope and joy. 



THK UI,Y 
Consider the lilies how they grow. — St. Luke xii., 27. 

THKRK is no flower more beautiful or more 
symbolical than the white pond-lily. At this 
season of the year it blossoms on the edge of every 
lake and forms a sort of lacework, like an exquisite 
fringe on a costly robe. The handicraft of nature has 
produced nothing which fills the air with sweeter 
perfume and nothing which teaches a more important 
lesson. It is a silent advocate of purity, and as we 
look on its fair petals, which impart a still more 
delicious odor as they begin to droop and wither, it 
appeals to us with an almost irresistible eloquence. 
It is firmly rooted in the slime and mud at the 
bottom of the pond, but it rises above its origin like 
a white-robed angel, and is so superior to its en-^ 
vironment that we wonder concerning the magic 

with which it appears to be endowed. If you were 

127 



128 HERALD SERMONS 

to look at the seed and were to examine its offensive 
surroundings you would declare that such a product 
from such a habitation would be as impossible as it 
would be unexpected. But by a secret chemistry 
beyond the reach of our understanding it extracts 
from the discouraging mud a very miracle of beauty 
and furnishes us with an object-lesson that has to 
do with the spiritual nature of man. It proves that 
the elements of an unspeakable aroma are to be 

f found in the most unpromising conditions, and that 
the effect may be greater than the apparent cause if 
circumstances are handled by the all-conquering 
energy which God has implanted in the seed. It 
has a distinct and lofty purpose in view, uses what- 
ever will aid it in the accomplishment of that pur- 
pose, and sternly and unerringly rejects all else. 
What will help to make a lily it takes from the 
great laboratory, and what would mar the lily it 

( refuses to absorb. It has a destiny to achieve, and, 
though the looker-on would declare that with such 

^materials it is powerless, yet it steadily toils from 
day to day with a sublime faith in itself, until the 
prefect blossom floats on the surface of the water, 
greets the sunshine, and proclaims a victory. 



THE WI,Y 129 

I think we may follow the example of the lily and 
thus make our human lives more beneficent and • 
profitable. What the lily does under the blind con- 
duct of natural forces we can do under the direction 
of a pure and simple religion. The lily tells us how ' 
to reach the highest success, and shows us that it # 
can be done by itself doing it. 

Instead of deploring our surroundings and assur- 
ing ourselves that our failure comes from the lack 
of opportunity, if we were to make the best of what 
we have and bend our forces to changing evil into 
good, we should make such spiritual progress that 
the very angels would lend a helping hand, and 
God's smile of approval would give us the peace that 
passeth understanding. The lily, according to our 
logic, might very reasonably say that since it is 
embedded in mud we have no right to expect any- f. 
thing beyond a noxious weed. We reason in that 
way concerning ourselves and so excuse our short- 
comings, forgive ourselves for our paltry deeds, and 
more than half believe that God will be equally 
merciful. But the lily pursues a different course^ 
with an entirely different result. The lily spirit is 

in the seed and the environment counts for nothing. 
9 



I30 HERALD SERMONS 

The very slime is compelled to contribute to its 

* holy and divine ambition. It disdains the mean 
and base, or, rather, extracts from the base and mean 
whatever will add to its growth and furnish its per- 
fume. In like manner, if we were so minded, and 
if we made use of the knowledge which God is ever 
ready to impart, we might use the most untoward 
experiences in the formation of a noble character. 
There is no temptation, no rugged portion of our 
upward climb, no sorrow that like a threatening 
storm breaks over our heads, no struggle that taxes 
our endurance to the utmost, which cannot be made 
to add energy to the soul. We must create great- 

I ness and goodness out of what we have, not out of 
what we wish we had. There is no life so lowly 

* that it cannot be grand, and there is no condition 
which will not bring you nearer to heaven if you 

i master it instead of allowing it to master you. The 
heart makes the life, not the life the heart. If you 
are embittered by your hard experience it is because 
you are looking through the wrong pair of eyes. 

An embittered lily, because it grows in slime ! 
No fragrance, because its root is embedded in the 

% mud ! A despairing, soul because life is hard, or 



TH£ ULY 131 

because you cannot have what you want or think 
you deserve, or what you envy in others ! That is 
not religion ; it is infidelity. That indicates a dis-* 
trust of yourself, and, worse still, a distrust of God, 
since He has seen fit to surround you with hard- 
ships. You are able to do His will, and that will 
ought to be your will. No matter where you are or 
what you are, or by what circumstances you are en- 
vironed, you are God's child, the angels are your 
friends, and, by and by, when you look back from 
the other shore you will see that the heavy hand 
was the wise and kindly hand. 

Christ was like the lily. A manger for a cradle ! * 
Ostracized by those who should have loved Him, * 
suspected by those who should have had confidence 
in Him, persecuted by those who should have kissed 
the hem of His raiment, and crucified by those who 
should have worshipped Him! Slime of human 
hatred! Filth of human passion! But the life so 
sweet, so calm, so filled with the perfume of 
Heaven, that we wear on our breast the symbol of 
His torture, the cross! 

Behold the lily! 



REJOICE ALWAY 

And ye shall rejoice in all that ye put your hand unto, ye 
and your households. — Deuteronomy xii., 7. 

IT is just as much our duty to enjoy life as it is to 
* work or sleep. It is therefore very important 
that we should so arrange our lives that they will 
furnish the largest amount of enjoyment. 

I do not say that any one can be perfectly happy 
all the time, for no part of our discipline is more 
needed by the soul than that which comes from the 
trials and disappointments and even the profound 
sorrows through which we are forced to pass. 

One may even say that he who has never wept 

does not know the value of laughter, and that he 

who has not toiled along the hot and dusty road 

does not appreciate the bliss of sitting under the 

friendly branches of a tree, with a cool spring 

bubbling at his feet, for a short period of rest. 

132 



REJOICE AWAY 133 

It is only when we are deprived of a blessing that 
we discover its worth, and he alone is grateful in its 
possession who knows what it is to get on without it. 

I have heard an aged saint say that no man can 
rightly define the word heaven until he stands by a 
new-made grave. One may sometimes see more 
through his tears than when looking through the 
largest telescope that was ever made. 

I do not ignore the serious or solemn side of life, 
but I assure you that if you add to the gloom by 
gloomy thoughts you not only make a mistake so 
far as your own comfort is concerned, but you are 
to that extent irreligious. On the other hand, 
when you preserve a cheerful attitude, when you 
brighten your life by dwelling on the good things 
you have, rather than on those you wish you had, 
and make yourself as happy as your circumstances 
allow, you are in the proper frame of mind to re- 
ceive religious truth, you are in accord with the 
eternal plan and have taken the first step in the 
direction of true religion. 

So long as you regard your environment as all 
wrong and unfitted to you, so long as you find fault 
because you think you are not where you ought to 



134 HERALD SERMONS 

be, just so long do you bar the way to a higher 
level and chain yourself to a dungeon floor. The 
angels, with their soothing and encouraging influ- 
ence, can no more reach you than the sunshine can 
get through a window which you have deliberately 
bricked up. I had almost said that a human soul 
can so surround itself with an atmosphere of discon- 
tent and doubt that the L,ord Himself cannot effect 
an entrance, while what is inj urious because it is evil 
is as much at home as a poisonous plant that thrives 
on miasm. If you long for the light you will go 
to the spot where the light can reach 3^ou, but it is 
foolish to declare that there is no light when you sit 
in a dark corner where only ghostly shadows dwell. 
There are very few lives in which a degree of 
happiness may not be found if it is sought for. 
But we must not forget that we must work to be 
happy, just as we work to be rich. If we want 
wealth we fix our minds upon it. We know that if 
we can discover its hiding-place our dreams will be 
realized. We plan to get it, and have sufficient 
confidence in ourselves to keep us on the alert. No 
opportunity escapes us, and we make the most of 
every one that presents itself. 



R£J0IC£ AWAY 135 

I cannot see why this principle should not be ap- 
plied to religion, neither can I see why it should not 
be equally successful. We go to get riches, but we 
expect happiness and contentment to come to us. 
We work for fame, for social influence, for all 
worldly good things, but it seldom occurs to us that 
we must also work for that mental and spiritual 
condition in which life is experienced at its best. 
And yet a man — that is the law as I understand it 
— should be as keen in his search for peace of mind, 
for resignation, for self-control, as he is for dollars, 
and should begin the task in the conviction that 
God wants him to be happy rather than miserable, 
and has so made the universe and arranged our en- 
vironment that we may spend contented years in 
this lower sphere and be joyfully raised to a higher 
level after death. 

If you look at life from your own standpoint, 
then you will say that I am a mere visionary ; that 
I have dreamed dreams which can never come true. 
But if you look at it from God's standpoint you 
will admit that you are in the wrong and that I 
am stating startling facts. 

I cannot conceive of a religion which does not 



I36 HERALD SERMONS 

lighten human burdens. I do not believe that God 
ever spoke a word in the way of revelation which 
was not intended to make the soul serene and 
happy. If we do not interpret the Bible after this 
fashion, then we misinterpret it. It is a closed 
book to us, and we have not learned to read it. 

Never look on the dark side with dark feelings 
in your heart, for you thereby make the darkness 
darker still. Look at it from the conviction that 
God is overhead, a conviction which is like the 
lantern which the traveller carries in the night-time, 
and you will find reason to rejoice even when the 
clouds are heavy and the path is steep. 

If Christ could walk with unfaltering steps to the 
place of crucifixion, because He knew that that was 
the road — the only road — to heaven, surely we can 
lay aside this unworthy habit of magnifying the 
petty ills of life, and, by faith in the Providence 
which has never yet deserted us and in the watchful 
care of the angels who attend us, can find occasion 
to rejoice every day until the setting sun ushers us 
into a world to which this is as the portico of the 
cathedral is to the cathedral itself. 



CONSOLATION IN TIME OF TROUBLE 

The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the 
everlasting arms. — Deuteronomy xxxiii., 27. 

HPHAT sentence is the corner-stone of the only 
* true religion. When I have assured myself 
that these two statements contain actual facts which 
I can trust as implicitly as the sailor trusts his com- 
pass in a storm I need nothing more, for I have the 
highest possible motive, the most serene confidence 
that all things will work together for good, and 
my darkest hours are lighted by a sky full of 
stars. 

The life of Christ is an amplification and an illus- 
tration of these words. They were uttered by the 
seer of Israel, but they were made into an object- 
lesson by the divine Nazarene. They were a dream 
in those old days, but they were changed into a 
reality when the " voice of one crying in the wilder- 

137 



138 HERALD SKRMONS 

ness" was heard on the hillsides of Judea and the 
world got its first glimpse of the highest possibilities 
which human nature can attain. The Son of God 
told the sons of men that the everlasting arms are 
literally underneath us, and when we saw Him in 
Gethsemane and on Calvary we knew that He 
spoke the truth. 

I delight in the cheerfulness which religion af- 
fords. It brightens our sorrows as the setting sun 
tips the clouds with glory, and it lightens our bur- 
dens, of which there are many to be borne, as 
though an invisible being were lifting half the load. 
We must weep, for that is one of the experiences 
necessary to a spiritual life, but behind our tears, in 
the secret depths of the heart, is a radiant hope, a 
hope not to be parted with at any price, and it is 
like the lantern which the pilgrim carries as he 
wends his way along the dangerous path in the 
night. 

The thought that the Lord of the universe is near 
at hand, that His ear is always open to your cry, 
that He cannot desert you to an untoward fate, that 
you and He have certain personal relations with 
each other by which your weakness can draw on 



CONSOLATION IN TIME OF TROUBLE 1 39 

His strength, gives you an inward satisfaction, a 
joyful contentment, an uplifting faith, in the pres- 
ence of which poverty almost becomes riches, and 
sickness health, and death itself a gain. Your be- 
lief in God as your protector and in the wondrous 
revelations of the Christ concerning duty and des- 
tiny are the subtle influences which form your char- 
acter and enable you to meet vicissitudes as bravely 
as the knight met his opponents in the tourna- 
ment, with this difference, that sometimes the 
knight was forced to lower his lance in defeat, 
while you, with the Spirit of the Universe on your 
side, must needs be always a conqueror. Who 
walks with God has nothing to fear. He takes no 
tremulous step, is sure of himself, and sure of 
heaven. 

If religion is so priceless in the conduct of life, 
what estimate shall we put on it when the sun sets 
on our little day and we ask ourselves if there is a 
to-morrow? If it braces the nerves to an effort 
which brushes temptation aside and protects our 
integrity against the invasion of sin, what shall we 
say of it when our dearest and best beloved lies in 
that mysterious slumber of which we can never 



s 



I40 HERALD SERMONS 

speak without a feeling of awe, or look upon without 
dimmed eyes ? How can such an experience as that 
be endured unless the heavens open as we gaze 
longingly upward ? It is the one supreme moment 
in the soul's whole career, and if we are in despair, 
then it were better not to have been born. It is a 
spiritual crisis which puts its appraisement on the 
philosophy which we have formulated and defended. 
If there is nothing to be said at such a time, if love 
ends, and we feel that our loss is an eternal loss, 
then life is not worth the living. To give your 
heart, and to have your heart break because you 
gave it, is to suffer because you have done a noble 
deed. The world must have been strangely planned 
if that can happen. It is not a good world to live 
in, and its creation was a mere experiment which 
has resulted in dismal failure. If this life is all, 
then the all is a mere nothing, or worse than that — 
it is a pang, an anguish, an affliction. 

But suppose I turn that picture to the wall and 
show you another. There is more than to-day for 
the soul. The sun will shine to-morrow even as it 
shines now. The loved one who has walked by 
your side, but who leaves you for a time, will walk 



CONSOLATION IN TIME OF TROUBLE 141 

by your side in another clime, and though you may 
not see him during the rest of your journey he will 
watch over you as one in that vast ' ' cloud of wit- 
nesses. ' ' He has gone, visibly gone, but invisibly 
he remains. He is better off than he could be in 
this lower world, and death has not destroyed or in 
any way marred his affection. On the other shore 
he will greet you, welcome you, and there re- 
new the ties which have only apparently been 
broken. 

That is what the Christ tells us. That is a revela- 
tion which corroborates the yearnings of human 
nature, a truth which ought to make heroes and 
heroines of all mankind. That kind of faith is 
based on the fact that God is wise, that we are here 
not to be tortured, but to do our work cheerily as 
best we can, that the light of heaven is shining on 
our paths as the sun shines on the wheat field and 
prepares it for the autumn harvest. 

Say what you will, that faith is the most enno- 
bling, the most enlarging element in human nature. 
Without it you may have genius and wealth and all 
that earth can give, but at heart you are a beggar. 
It is that belief which alone constitutes your riches. 



142 HERALD SERMONS 

Your doubts are like poison in the blood, but faith 
is health, vigor, and everything that can be desired. 
If we are on a journey to Nowhere, we are of all 
men most miserable, but since we are on our way 
Home, — ah, that is a different matter ! 



CHILDISH THINGS 

But when I became a man, I put away childish things, — 
i Corinthians xiii., II. 

/^\NK day during the last summer I was walking 
^-^ along the strand, listening to the regular and 
rhythmic pounding of the waves, when my atten- 
tion was attracted to a couple of children on a dune 
close at hand. As I approached them I saw that 
they each had a little tin pail and a wooden spade. 
They would dig a deep hole in the sand or pile it up 
in fantastic shapes, and all the while would chirp 
like young birds in the sunshine. They were per- 
fectly happy, and they needed only plenty of sand, 
a wooden spade, and a tin pail to make them so. 

As I looked at the picture I envied those children 
their capacity for pleasure and sighed as I said to 
myself: " I wish I could be as happy as they are. 

They live in the present ; the day is bright and 

143 



144 HERALD SERMONS 

cloudless, and with that much they are entirely 
satisfied. The quality of character which antici- 
pates the possible troubles of the future has not yet 
been developed. It is enough for them to be alive, 
and their enjoyment is complete and continuous." 

Then something within me answered in this wise: 
' ' There is no reason why you should not be far 
happier than those children, but you must learn 
how to be. You must be taught the secret of hap- 
piness, and if you apply that secret to the circum- 
stances in which you live you will have a serener 
and profounder happiness than childhood can ever 
know. Life furnishes pleasures for the man also, 
but they are not to be found with a wooden spade 
and a tin pail. They are the pleasures which come 
from work well done, from an aim in life which 
kindles all our powers into activity, from the faith 
which makes us noble and builds our years into a 
temple in which the everlasting God visits our souls 
while we worship and reveals to us the duties of 
to-day and the hopes of to-morrow. ' ' 

So I went back to my little cottage not wishing to 
be a child again, but resolved to be a man, to live a 
man's life, cherish a man's thoughts and find in 



CHILDISH THINGS 1 45 

each passing hour a man's pleasures, — that kind of 
pleasure the remembrance of which will bring no 
regret when I stand on the farther shore and look 
back. 

To do all that, one must lay the foundation of 
character in those principles which we call religious, 
because religion unites time to eternity, and teaches 
us to make an honorable, a high-minded, the best 
possible use of all the changeful experiences of life. 
If you think religion is intended to deprive you of 
any real pleasure or to shroud 3^our weeks and 
months in gloom, you are seriously mistaken. Its 
only object is to make you satisfied with yourself 
and to make the angels satisfied with you. There 
is no sorrow in religion, for it lightens every burden 
and hides a hope under every tear. 

Give a child a sand dune to play on and he asks 
no more ; give a man a pile of gold and, alas, he 
thinks he is supremely happy. But he is still in 
swaddling clothes and has only a wooden spade and 
a tin pail to play with. It is not your money, but 
your ideas, which make the home of your soul. In 
the last analysis of life you discover, to your sur- 
prise, that there is more enjoyment in giving than 



146 H3RAIJ) SERMONS 

in grasping. The heart of a man, not his purse, is 
his sovereign. 

To spend an anxious life in trying to make your 
golden dream come true ; to thrust aside the simple 
pleasures which ought to make every day enjoyable 
in your hot eagerness to add to what is already 
enough ; to create and cultivate the appetite which 
hungers for more, is to waste precious time and to 
lose all chance of genuine happiness. The wrong 
we have done ourselves is in having made money 
rather than character the standard of excellence. 
Seek for gold if you will, but in the name of good 
government, of wholesome society, and of the best 
interests of mankind, put virtue, honesty, national 
and individual honor in the first rank. Having 
done that, you may in all other respects do as you 
please. Nothing can go wrong if you begin with 
what is right and insist upon it. Start with a lofty 
manhood, preserve that manhood intact against all 
temptations, and it makes no difference in what 
direction you travel, or what church creed you may 
adopt, you are on the road to heaven and will reach 
your destination at last. 

Put it down in your note-book that no one can 



CHILDISH THINGS 147 

reap the highest benefits of life, no one can enjoy 
what God decrees for daily experience, no one can 
be happy in any but the narrowest sense, no one 
can bravely meet the adversities which are sure to 
come, or die with a smile on his lips and leave a 
sweet and precious memory behind, unless he is gov- 
erned by moral principle as the vessel is guided by 
the compass, and unless his honor, his integrity, 
has been guarded as his most precious possession. 
There is nothing in this wide world worth quite so 
much as the consciousness that you have done what 
is right in spite of fate, and nothing which so fully 
repays a man for all the sacrifices which are neces- 
sary in order to keep it. 

The words of Christ in respect to this matter are 
as refreshing as a cool northwest wind on a hot day 
and as bracing and invigorating as a frosty morn- 
ing in December. Christianity is another word for 
manliness. The true Christian uses this life as the 
carpenter uses his chest of tools, to build something 
which time cannot destroy and which eternity will 
strengthen. 



A GREEN OLD AGE 

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.— St. 
Luke ii., 29. 

1 LIKE to go into an old house, wander through 
* its halls and chambers, and remind myself of the 
customs and habits of a generation that has slipped 
into the past. Such a house is quaint in its archi- 
tecture and its decorations. It is not quite a part 
of our time, but it is perhaps all the more interest- 
ing on that account. The roof is covered with 
moss, the walls with ivy, and there is about it a 
prophecy of dissolution not to be much longer post- 
poned ; but I like it, and it has a peculiar charm for 
me. I think of those who have been sheltered there 
from the same storms which have swept through 
human lives ever since creation's dawn, who wept 
the same kind of tears that have fallen from our 

eyes and laughed with the merriment which makes 

148 



A GREEN OU> AGE 1 49 

us laugh. Houses are different in different ages, 
but souls are alike in all ages. 

And I like also, and for the same reason, to sit by 
the side of man or woman who has travelled through 
the experiences of many years and is now near- 
ing the journey's end. He looks back through a 
vista of eighty years or more, and forward to an 
eternal future which is close at hand. His body 
shows signs of weakness, but his soul has just 
begun to recognize its possibilities. He reminds 
me of a vigorous youth standing in the doorway of 
a tottering mansion. Indeed, I am of the opinion 
that a soul grows young as the body grows old ; 
that there is no such thing as age to the immortal 
part of us. The muscles and nerves become weary 
and need the rest which change, the change of 
death, brings, but the spirit just crosses the thres- 
hold of conscious and healthy life when signs of 
physical decay make their appearance. We may 
note that the machine works with hesitation, or per- 
haps refuses to work at all, but at that moment the 
man in the old house knows that he is better fitted 
to do good work than when he stood years ago at 
the entrance to his earthly career. Give him a new 



150 HERALD SERMONS 

body and he will show you that his sojourn or 
bivouac here has been only an apprenticeship, and 
that when death gives him his freedom and another 
world furnishes him with his opportunity he will be 
a nobler creature than his present circumstances 
have allowed him to become. 

I reverence old age ; I mean the right sort of old 
age. If one can grow old gracefully, can ripen like 
an apple which is ruddy with sunshine and dew and 
at last drops into the basket of the fruit gatherer, 
then I think the sunset of life is more beautiful than 
its sunrise. Of course there is a peculiar delight in 
youth, with its many tasks in front of it, but mellow 
and sweet-tempered age, its stint all done, read}' to 
go when the summons comes, has a charm of its 
own, a richness as of the autumn forests, a sanctity 
like that of a cathedral, and the dignity of a lofty 
pine which totters in the gale. 

But one may be soured by age, and that is a great 
misfortune. To fret because we cannot do what 
was so easily done in days gone by, to chafe because 
our will is no longer the law of the household, to 
rebel because the new generation has a way of its 
own, new customs and habits, to which we are 



A GREEN OI.D AGE 151 

strangers, and to constantly find fault because we 
must sit in the background while our children, 
grown to men and women, occupy the foreground — 
to do these things is to sadly err, to make the last 
days of our journey more difficult than they need 
be and to overtax the love that does so much and 
makes so many sacrifices for our contentment and 
happiness. 

It is a duty to grow old with as much sweetness 
as can be gathered from the fact that heaven is close 
at hand. After a certain age this world has practi- 
cally done with us, for others have taken our places. 
There is much for us to do, but it is not the same 
kind of work that we did years ago. Our rich ex- 
perience can bless many a life, and if our age is 
" serene and bright and lovely as a I^apland night " 
we shall be a saintly presence in the household, 
honored, revered, and beloved. 

In order to accomplish this our thoughts must 
grow purer, our tempers gentler, our charity larger, 
and, above all, our faith stronger with the passage 
of time. He who sees no to-morrow will be 
wretched when the sun declines. To sit in the 
armchair in the corner and be glad that the little 



152 HERALD SERMONS 

ones are happy; to be happy with them; to be will- 
ing to live within the narrower circle which increas- 
ing infirmity prescribes, but to smile on those who 
enjoy what we have enjoyed so long, — all this is the 
peculiarity of a heavenly old age, which draws to it 
the respect and reverence of the new generation. 

God's way is the best after all. Youth is elastic, 
middle life is titanic, but when you have reached 
the middle of the afternoon, and from that hour on 
until the shadows slowly fall, the soul must admit 
that its house is out of repair and be content with 
those serene experiences which are like a calm after 
the stormy period of life's activities. 

I used to dread to grow old, but now I prize age 
more highly than any other season of the year. 
There may be lines in the face, but they are like the 
furrows in a ploughed field. They tell where the 
harrow has been and where the crops have flour- 
ished. The physical vigor subsides, but the man 
himself is stronger than ever, handicapped, like a 
chained athlete, but still strong and hopeful, and 
even youthful. 

Never grow old in heart. Be yours the kind of 
religion which makes you sweeter in soul as the 



A GREEN OLD AGE 153 

months slip by. The passage of time must not 
touch your temper, except to make you gentler and 
more kindly. Years add to the value of wine by 
making it richer, and they should do the same for 
you. You have had your day. Be thankful for 
that, and above, all live in a frame of mind so con- 
tented, so peaceful, so sympathetic, that your love 
goes out to every one. Before you, not far distant, 
are the shores of the other world. You can hear 
the music of the waves as they break on the strand. 
In the meantime open the soul's doors that angels 
may enter, and be ready and glad to go when the 
summons comes. Heaven grows dearer and clearer 
as this life fades into a dream, for it is a dream, and 
the other life is the only reality. 



THE BETHLEHEM OF THE SOUL 

Where is he that is born King of the Jews ? — St. Matthew ii., 2. 

HPHE Bethlehem of Judea is a village which occu- 
* pies a very exalted position in the history of 
religion. It is the starting-point in a j ourney from the 
worn-out old to the refreshing and invigorating new. 
Neither prophet nor seer standing by the manger 
on that eventful night could have foretold the con- 
sequences to the world of that Child's advent. The 
pilgrims in that little caravansary heard with indif- 
ference that a newcomer had appeared on the scene, 
and shrugged their shoulders at the vague rumors 
of supernatural events which reached them like a 
distant echo, but neither they nor any one else this 
side of heaven had any conception that a new page 
in the book of life had been turned and that man- 
kind stood face to face with a future too transcend- 
ent for the most vivid imagination to depict. 

154 



THE BETHLEHEM OF THE SOUL 155 

A Babe on its mother's bosom ! A pallet of straw, 
a flickering lantern, the braying of asses and the 
neighing of horses! Men and women, fellow travel- 
lers, gossiping about a curious story told by shep- 
herds who had bivouacked in the neighborhood ! 
A dim belief on the part of some that the incident 
had great possibilities which might or might not be 
favorable to their own fortunes, and a grave doubt 
on the part of others, who had been led astray so 
often by predictions that they had become over- 
cautious ! These were the incidents of the occasion, 
and the}' remind one of an orchestra tuning their 
instruments before playing the symphony to which 
the whole world listens in breathless wonder. 

The religions of mankind had completed their 
ordained task. They had become spent bullets 
which no longer reached the target. In their day 
they had done faithful service, but their day had 
lapsed into evening, and they had fallen into disuse. 
The human heart craved a kind of food which the}' 
could no longer supply. Their resources were ex- 
hausted, the water pitcher was empty and there was 
apparently no fountain at which it could be refilled. 
Shall the man who has outgrown the clothes of 



156 HERALD SERMONS 

childhood go naked when he has cast them aside, or 
are there other looms in which more suitable fabrics 
can be made, and shall he be reclothed in garments 
which fit his larger stature ? These questions were 
being asked by the thoughtful and observing in 
every part of the civilized globe. No one knew it 
at the time ; scarcely any one would have believed 
it if he had been told, but that manger in Bethlehem 
was God's answer to this questioning. That manger 
was the slender source of a lordly religion which has 
flowed through the ages, bearing on its broad bosom 
the hearts and the hopes of the human race, an ever- 
widening current flowing toward eternity. 

But there is another Bethlehem besides that of 
Judea, — the Bethlehem of the soul. I have a Bethle- 
hem within, and you have another, and every child 
of earth another. The old has ceased to satisfy 
us ; we long for a new revelation, for higher pur- 
poses, loftier aspirations. The dry husks of creed, 
of dogma, of conventional belief, have no nourish- 
ment for our spiritual bodies. We strain our ears 
to hear that overture of angels which will announce 
a golden age of faith. We know that God is not 
far off, but what hides Him from our view ? The 



THE BETHLEHEM OF THE SOUL 1 57 

Christ could see the heavenly hosts and call upon 
them as friend calls on friend in time of trouble, 
but our eyes are dim. We almost see and almost 
hear, but between us and them there are curtains 
which we try in vain to part. Hands are out- 
stretched, but they are invisible. L,ove looks down 
on our homes and leads us in mysterious ways, 
but we are dull and more than half doubtful of it 
all. There are witnesses in the cloud, but though 
we see the cloud the witnesses we cannot hear. 
Why is this? What can we do to stand where 
He stood and see the heavens as clearly as we see 
the earth ? 

The Christ must be born in the Bethlehem of the 
soul, and then all will be changed. Too much of 
this world, too little of the other and better world — 
that is our trouble, our spiritual disease. We say 
that the body has a soul in it and so proclaim that 
we feel sure of this body, but not quite sure of the 
soul. If we could take the higher position and de- 
clare that we are souls with bodies wrapped about 
them as a temporary convenience, just as one puts 
on his overcoat on a chilly day and takes it off when 
warmer weather comes, then we should put that 



158 HERALD SERMONS 

first which God meant to be first and put second the 
overcoat, which only keeps us warm for a time and 
is then laid aside. It is our love for the overcoat 
which stands in the way of progress. Thus we 
prize what is worthless and disregard what is price- 
less. 

It is a mistake to think that Christ's work was 
finished when He went to heaven. On the con- 
traty, it was just begun. "I will be with you 
alway ' ' were not words lightly spoken, but their 
full import is seldom understood. The Christ of 
Jerusalem is the Christ of to-day. He is on the 
earth now just as much as we are. The angels 
who ministered to Him then are ministering to us 
at the present moment. His power is our power if 
we are in the right relation to Him, and what He 
did, yes, ' ' greater things than these shall ye do ' ' 
when He and we are on terms of divine intimacy. 
Burdens may be heavy, but nevertheless they will 
be light ; sorrows may be hard to bear and yet they 
will be easy to bear ; death may be dreaded and yet 
it will be gladly welcomed ; bereavement may be 
heart-breaking and yet our hearts will not be broken 
— these are the paradoxes of a true religion. 



THE EETHEEHEM OF THE SOUE 1 59 

Christ in the soul, loved as the bride is loved by 
the bridegroom ! Dear ones waiting on the earth- 
ward shore of eternity to greet us at our coming ! 
Beautiful life, calm, serene death, and then ' ' there 
shall be no night there." That is to be the religion 
of the future ; why not make it the religion of to- 
day ? 



FRUIT 

Ye shall know them by their fruits. — St. Matthew vii., 16. 

I F we wish to get at the man who hides inside of 
* the man and find whether he is well-tempered 
steel or only poor iron, we must listen to his actions 
rather than his speech. 

Talking is a good deal easier than doing, and one 
naturally paints a fair picture when describing him- 
self. But if you look at the cold facts of a man's 
daily life you see at a glance whether he is saint 
or sinner, for deeds have a habit of telling the truth 
without favoritism. 

If we could be saved by what we believe, or what 

we profess to believe, we should forge our way into 

heaven without any great difficulty. But that is 

not the law. We must work our way there or not 

get to heaven at all. In a word, we must earn 

heaven before we can enjoy it. No one can make 

1 60 



FRUIT l6l 

us a present of it. We must win it by deserving it. 
My creed will not buy it, but my life will. We 
must take to the L,ord the deeds we have been doing 
during these years of temptation, and they will 
decide our future as they are now deciding our 
present. You can't get something for nothing in 
the spiritual any more than in the physical world. 

And it is unsafe to depend on what is called death- 
bed repentance, which is well enough in its wa} r , 
because it is better than no repentance at all, but a 
very poor substitute for an honest life. I do not 
believe you can have God's approval by simply 
saying you are sorry for what you have done when 
the time comes that you can have your own way no 
longer. It is wiser to look at things in the strong 
light of common sense and refuse to do wrong 
rather than do it and then see that you have made 
a mistake. 

What I call religion, therefore, is rather a serious 
thing. You cannot do as you please in any such 
world as this. There is a law which will not be 
blinked out of sight. Neither can it be bribed to 
look on you more favorably than on others. Build 
on sand, and the house falls ; build on a rock, and 



1 62 HERALD SERMONS 

it stands. A child once asked me if two and two 
always make four. I answered: ''Yes, my son, 
and if you never forget that fact you will be saved 
many a regret." 

Religion must not be mistaken for a frothy senti- 
mentalism which operates in some magical way to 
swing the pearly gates wide open. On the con- 
trary, it is sturdy, muscular, and athletic, giving 
you in the autumn the result of your labor in the 
spring and summer. Its purpose is to so educate 
and develop your soul that you will be happy and 
contented in whatever planet you find yourself, be- 
cause you have earned the right to be contented and 
happy. 

Religion is not primarily an emotion, but rather 
a thought, a conviction, a faith. It is like a bridge 
which is new to you. You try it doubtfully at first, 
not knowing whether it will bear 3 r our weight or 
not. But the farther you go the more you trust it, 
and at last you feel sure that it will conduct you to 
the other shore. There are many things in religion 
which we do not understand, some which puzzle us 
very greatly. But the things we see clearly lead us 
to have confidence even when we cannot see at all. 



FRUIT 163 

I do not understand the mariner's compass, but ex- 
perience teaches me to put implicit faith in it even 
in the storm and tempest. 

But some one will remind me that men and women 
have led the purest lives and still repudiated Christ- 
ianity. I know of a marble quarry which would be 
very valuable were it not for the iron rust wnich has 
percolated through it. Nevertheless I have seen 
several large blocks of marble from that quarry 
which were as white as December snow. The 
quarry, however, will not pay for the working. 

Christianity is a series of the highest possible 
thoughts, and we have learned that noble thoughts 
make noble lives. The thought of God, of immor- 
tality, of duty, of obedience to law, are creative 
thoughts. They cannot enter your guest chamber 
without making the whole household radiant. The 
sun shines in every life where these thoughts dwell. 
The natural fruitage of faith in them is a harvest 
rich in good grain, and, on the other hand, the 
natural fruitage of doubt is discontent. The farmer 
who prefers poor seed to good is not wise, and why 
should he choose the lesser good rather than the 
greater ? 



1 64 HERALD SKRMONS 

Religion brings peace, resignation, happiness. 
Therefore we want it. The Master leads in the 
smoothest road from earth to heaven. Therefore 
we follow Him. If religion gives us the grace to 
live and the grace to die, comfortable in the thought 
of eternity and reunion, then we call for it, as we 
call for food when we are hungry. 



HKROKS AND HEROINES 

But lie that endureth to the end shall be saved. — St. 
Matthew x., 22. 

EVERYBODY admires heroism. The qualities 
*-** of character which hurl one to the forefront 
in a critical moment, careless of danger, reckless of 
consequences, claim our unstinted applause. 

But in the emergency, when the air vibrates with 
excitement, a man becomes intoxicated with cour- 
age, ordinary soldiers do deeds which would grace a 
god of Olympus, and the coward is so rare an ex- 
ception that he becomes invisible. Human nature, 
when impelled by a strong passion or a noble 
ambition, surprises itself. The poor village lout 
has a capacity for endurance and brilliant work 
which needs only time and incentive to become 
divine. The rattle of musketry is the stimulus to 

great achievement. The perilous expedition, with 

165 



1 66 HERALD SERMONS 

sudden death lurking in ambush, will always find 
volunteers. 

Man is a rude, crude, but grand sort of creature, 
with the making of an archangel in him. There 
is a mettle in his soul which has not yet been fully 
called forth. He is a Toledo blade which the hot 
fire of circumstance will some time temper. He is 
nobler than he knows or ever can know until he is 
forced to show himself by opportunity. 

So much for physical heroism. It is generally ex- 
hibited in the gaze of the world. There is another 
kind, however, and a higher kind, which never sees 
the light of day— the quiet heroism of an obscure life. 
The majority of our heroes and heroines will be un- 
known to us until we get to heaven. They are not 
now walking on hilltops, where they can be ob- 
served of all men, but are living quietly and sacri- 
ficing patiently in their narrow sphere, waiting for 
the peace and rest which will come " at eventide." 
I have known many such, and have never looked 
into their sad faces without thinking that there 
is a courage to which that of the battle-field is 
a trivial circumstance, the courage which endures 
with resignation and meets inevitable suffering 



HEROES AND HEROINES 1 67 

and misfortune with a calmness which is God's 
best gift. 

Here, for example, is a woman who on her wed- 
ding day saw nothing but blue sky and sunshine. 
It seemed as though no shadow could throw itself 
across her path. A light heart and lips of laughter 
— nothing more. She did not know her own 
strength, for she had never been tested. But the 
avalanche swept down the mountain side and 
crushed and buried all her hopes. The day was 
turned to night, and even the stars refused to come 
out. Sickness, death, poverty followed in logical 
succession. She was face to face with a hard world, 
her children crying for bread. The friends of other 
days had their attention called elsewhere, and they 
saw her not. Alone in the struggle ! And yet she 
bravely set to work, won her way to a livelihood, 
walked her lonely path in calm confidence that God 
still lived, brushed away the tears and grappled 
with fate. The struggle has told on her, for her 
hair is gray, and there is a look in her face which 
comes only from sorrow hard to bear. 

You do not know her, or perhaps care to know 
her, but that life is one long list of heroisms, and 



1 68 HERAUD SERMONS 

when we all get yonder and look back on the past 
we shall see the path she has travelled, the upward 
climb of her years, and give her the meed of praise 
which a thoughtless and ignorant world now re- 
fuses. There are no nobler qualities of character 
than her uncomplaining endurance, her persistent 
patience and her undimmed faith. The future has 
crowns for such souls, and God and the angels walk 
with them on their way to the New Jerusalem. 

I know a man who has given his life to an aged 
parent, and another who has been bedridden for 
years, shut in from the pleasures which we most 
prize, and still another whose life has been a long 
sacrifice for his children, and another who — but 
why continue the list ? I do but remind you of a 
similar instance within your own knowledge. 

To meet such a fate requires the sublimest cour- 
age, not the courage of despair, but the courage of 
faith. There are flowers even in such byways as 
these, joys which cheer the heart and spots of hap- 
piness like oases in the desert. It is strange, but 
the presence of God and the conscious companion- 
ship of angels can bring bright days and starry 
nights. It is not our surroundings, after all, that 



HEROES AND HEROINES 1 69 

bring peace, for if peace is in the heart it throws its 
light over all. 

The root and foundation of this heroism is re- 
ligion. There must be faith that above us and 
around us are helpful and cheering influences, that 
earth and heaven are within telepathic distance of 
each other, and that what strength we need will be 
given us for the asking if we are to meet sorrow and 
misfortune with quiet fortitude. And the more we 
realize the presence of God the easier it is to bear 
burdens. If we could once catch a glimpse of an 
angel's face — and some tell me they have done this 
—we should be light-hearted even in the dark. At 
any rate, we can have faith that loved ones are near 
though invisible, and it helps us as nothing else can. 



A NEW YEAR 

A thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday when 
it is past.— Psalm xc, 4. 

T^IME and eternity ! The one is the beautiful 
* porch to the great temple, the other is the 
magnificent temple itself, whose spaces are immeas- 
urable even by the imagination. 

In very truth we begin the eternal life with the 
first breath w r e draw in childhood. As a matter of 
convenience, however, we cut off a small section of 
eternity, just long enough to encompass our earthly 
life, and call it time. Dividing it into years and 
months and days, we are able to keep our varied 
experiences in mind, telling ourselves that at such a 
moment we suffered defeat, at such another we won 
the victory, and at still another some dear one came 
into the household to add its little voice to the do- 
mestic chorus, or perhaps some dear one suddenly 

170 



A NEW YEAR 171 

became silent and left us to wonder in what clime 
she is now wandering. 

It is a beautiful and profitable custom, this which 
we celebrate as the cold sun shines on each succes- 
sive first of January. There are seventy hillocks in 
the short journey of human life, and as we reach 
each one in turn we lay our burdens down for a short 
respite, gather our friends together, recall the past, 
forecast the future, and with kindly greetings wish 
each other a happy arrival at the next hillock, then 
take up our burdens once again and enter the valley 
that lies between the two elevations. It is a day of 
good cheer, of fraternal assembly. The air is full of 
happy thoughts and good wishes. The whole world 
is brighter for it, for heart goes out to heart, and 
universal sympathy lifts us for a time to a higher 
level. Earth is a little more comforting and heaven 
a little dearer. 

Some new faces have come and some of the old 
faces have disappeared, but love welcomes the one 
and faith still catches an occasional glimpse of the 
other. It is the day when we stop for a moment to 
listen to the keynote of a better life. Dissatisfied 
with what we have done, the soul bids us be braver, 



172 HERALD SERMONS 

truer, and nobler. We heed the warning, and. 
though the cares of the coming days may diminish 
the force of our resolution, a subtle something re- 
mains which points to possibilities unattained, while 
it reminds us of the ability to attain them. With 
the capacity to be great, we are still strangely small 
of soul, and on each New Year's Day we chide our- 
selves for our weakness. A sense of shame mingles 
with the consciousness of power, and we annually 
promise ourselves better things. 

Amid the hilarities of the hour there come to us 
serious thoughts, daughter, amusement, pleasure 
have a conspicuous place in the religious life. Be 
sad when you must, but be glad whenever you can. 
The sadness will come of itself, unbidden, but the 
gladness must be sought, and it is a duty to search 
for it until it is found. But behind the smiles, the 
frivolities, the gayeties, every reasoning soul finds 
food for grave questioning. 

To the youth come moments when the vision of 
great possibilities visits him. I^ife is stern, grave, 
laborious. He dreams of success and stirs his inner 
depths with the determination to make it his. But 
what shall the success be ? Wealth, fame, position ? 



A NEW YEAR 173 

These are well enough and quite worthy our utmost 
effort. Still, if we have only wealth or fame or po- 
sition, yea, if we have all three in our grasp, they 
are not enough. Without manliness, honesty, self- 
respect, the ability to look back on the path we have 
travelled without a sigh, they count as nothing when 
the soul criticises and measures itself. A life of 
moral principle, of honor, of even-handed justice, is 
the only life worth living. Therefore, with all your 
striving, let nobility of heart, an unblemished career, 
be your guiding star. 

To the man in middle life the question asks itself 
on such a day as this, What have I done to make the 
world better for my living in it ? Peasant or mer- 
chant, learned or illiterate, that question must be 
answered, and the answer comes with an armful of 
joy or of regret. One can make his character great 
and noble in whatever station he may be placed, and 
character is the only thing that lasts. Death can- 
not change it, for it walks through the valley of 
shadows to the throne of God, to be accepted there. 
On this bright morning, if we can congratulate our 
own souls on what they have achieved we have a 
new year blessing that comes straight from heaven. 



174 HERALD SERMONS 

To the aged there is nothing left but the future. 
The past has gone beyond recall and to-morrow 
beckons. In the sweet faith that the sun will rise 
again and that we shall rise with it the winter points 
to spring. There is no sadness though the journey 
draws to a close, for the Beyond opens up its glories 
and with a single step we shall be with our loved 
ones once more. If we have done our work well we 
shall go hence with joy. 

For the young, therefore, and for the aged, and 
for all, there is but one wish — that the new year will 
find us strong for its duties and ready to reap the 
harvest in the field in which Providence has placed 
us. 



IN THE OTHER EIFE 

In my Father's house are many mansions. — St. John xiv., 2. 

WHAT pursuits and pleasures will occupy our 
attention in the next life ? This is a ques- 
tion which not only excites our curiosity but seriously 
demands an answer. Since every day brings us 
nearer to the great mystery of death, we naturally 
inquire concerning the conditions on which we shall 
enter after we leave the valley of shadows and 
emerge into a world about which only the faintest 
hints have been vouchsafed. 

We are not, however, left entirely in the dark on 
this subject. The little we know leads to many a 
reasonable surmise, for since there is a certain fixed 
consistency in the realm of spirit as well as of matter, 
it is safe to build a future out of the capacities and 
longings of human nature. 

The scientific imagination predicts with consider- 
175 



176 HKRALD SERMONS 

able assurance the kind of physical life which exists 
on the planets of our system, and its statements are 
received with undoubting confidence. In like man- 
ner the student of the soul may venture without 
much hesitation to declare that a given environment 
must result from our passage into the immortal life. 
It would be folly to insist on details, but general 
principles may be surely depended on. 

The fact that the drudgery of our earthly career 
will be dispensed with, and that the soul will be free 
to follow its unhampered inclination, is itself a 
prophecy of what will happen. In this under world 
physical necessities press upon us like a heavy bur- 
den, while the spirit of man very rarely has full 
scope. The body is always in evidence, but the 
soul is in the shadowed background. Manual work 
in order to maintain existence, daily struggle to sup- 
ply our material wants, is the tragic element of this 
lower life. We have neither time nor ability to pro- 
vide food for the soul, because so much time and 
energy are required to provide food for the body. 
Millions of men are hardly conscious of their immor- 
tality because from cradle to grave they spend their 
best selves in keeping a roof over their heads and 



IN THE OTHER UFS 1 77 

earning bread for their children. The years pass, 
and when the end comes the spiritual nature is still 
undeveloped. This is one of the puzzles which con- 
front us when we try to understand the providence 
of God. 

But with death we leave this burden at the church- 
yard gate. No more anxiety about the body ! It 
has done its work and is reverently laid aside. 
When clothed upon with a spiritual body physical 
drudgery ceases and pure soul comes to the fore- 
front. We may declare, therefore, that the next life 
will furnish us with intellectual opportunities which 
have heretofore been denied. Mind and heart, 
aspiration and affection, not only the nobler man, 
but the real man, will be free, and the watchword of 
immortality will be growth. The radiance of infinite 
wisdom and love will beckon us toward the ideal, 
the universe will be our schoolroom and God Him- 
self our teacher. We shall begin then with a con- 
dition which is now almost inconceivable, but which 
will be unutterably blessed. Under such influences 
there must needs be an awakening of dormant 
powers, and the dimmed and blurred souls of earth 
will have an eternity in which to become archangels. 



178 HKRAI/D SERMONS 

I believe that every one has the breath of God in 
his nostrils. That breath constitutes personality — a 
personality which will persist forever. It will not 
be absorbed in the infinite as a drop of water is ab- 
sorbed by the ocean, but will maintain its separate 
identity throughout eternity. Moreover, it will, 
amid the opportunities of another life, slowly edu- 
cate itself and rise to heights not dreamed of. No 
part of God can die, neither can it remain dormant. 
It will, when it becomes conscious of itself, push its 
way into broader spheres of influence and develop- 
ment, coming nearer to the Father in the passing 
cycles of eternity, until at last the morning stars will 
once more sing together over a redeemed world- — a 
world awakened to its true destiny and engaged in 
the glorious work of accomplishing it. 

Such thoughts fill the dark landscape of the pres- 
ent with glorious light. We belong to Christ and 
boundless love shelters us with its protecting wings. 
A faith like that uplifts our struggling and de- 
spondent souls, for when we have borne our burdens 
bravely, death will give us the relief we pray for and 
eternity will welcome us to a larger life. We must, 
therefore, be cheerful, patient, and courageous, nor 



IN THE OTHKR UFE 179 

let the ills of the present unfit us for the blessings of 
the future. God is our Father, and we should get 
nearer to Him with every trial and sorrow. We 
shall not really live until we live again. 



A GLAD HEART 

Rejoice evermore. In everything give thanks. — I Thessa- 
lonians v., 16, 18. 

T HAVE an artist friend who a few days ago fell 
* into that sleep which we call death. He is 
my friend still, though we are separated, I in one 
world, and he in another, for he was steadfast in his 
affections and could not easily change. He went to 
the opera in the afternoon, for he was sensitive to 
music, and on his return home, during a sweet 
slumber, his soul wandered away from the body and, 
seeing so much that was beautiful on the other side 
of the river, forgot to return. 

He had one characteristic which I admired beyond 
expression — namely, he was an apostle of good cheer 
in art. He delighted in an orchard of apple blos- 
soms and painted them with such cunning skill that 

you could almost catch their fragrance and almost 

1 80 



A GLAD HEART l8l 

feel the spring breeze fan your cheek. He never 
looked on the dark side of nature, would not use 
his colors on a tempest, and so one loves to look at 
his pictures, for they are uplifting, and there is a 
smile in every one of them. 

It seems to me to be a duty to always look on and 
to look for the bright side of things, as my artist did. 
Life is a different matter to him who looks out from 
the shadow in his heart from what it ought to be. 
It is easy to exaggerate an evil or a misfortune, and 
the imagination can brood over a sorrow no bigger 
than a dime until it covers the whole earth. To 
magnify our joys and to minimize our sorrows is one 
of the secrets of human happiness. If you place a 
penny on the eye you can see nothing but blackness, 
but if you hold it at arm's length it grows so small 
in the general brightness that it almost vanishes. 
To cherish a grief or disappointment and brood over 
it, as I have known men and women to do, is to give 
it proportions to which it has no rightful claim. It 
grows by your encouragement until it is the only 
thing in sight, and, like a despot, rules you with an 
iron will. It may be only a dwarf, but you make it 
a giant. In doing this you not only take a false 



1 82 HERAI/D SERMONS 

view of life, but you render yourself incapable of 
making a strenuous effort, tying your own hands 
with an imaginary cord. 

The facts are all opposed to the chronic fault- 
finder. Nature has her rough and terrible moods, 
but on the whole she is beneficent. The general 
trend is to produce happiness, and in most cases the 
misery from which we suffer is caused by some wilful 
or ignorant infraction of law. There are more bright 
than gloomy days in the year, more smiles than 
tears in every one's life. We take the good as a 
matter of course and straightway forget it; we linger 
over the painful moments and cherish their memory. 
A sturdy effort to make a good use of a hard ex- 
perience would rub away its cutting edges, but we 
bivouac in pleasant things and keep a permanent 
home in the unpleasant. 

This habit of mind cannot be called religious, not 
by any stretch of the imagination. It is much 
nearer to atheism, for it engenders the sort of emo- 
tion, close to desperation and despair, which belongs 
to pure unbelief. Religion, indeed, is the science of 
good cheer. That is its mission in the world. It is 
not an unpalatable dose of medicine to make you die 



A GlvAD HEART 1 83 

comfortably, but a glorious hope that will make you 
live comfortably. It tells you how to get out of sor- 
row all the compensation it contains, how to bear a 
burden with equable temper and how to die with the 
consciousness that when at last you fall asleep some 
one will wake you to a higher and better life. 

If your religion fails to do that for you it is cer- 
tainly adulterated. You must throw the old 
thoughts aside and find better ones to guide you 
through the maze of coming years. You cannot 
always be hilarious, for sometimes you must weep, 
but you can always be calm and trustful, and if you 
are both of these you will be as cheerful as the cir- 
cumstances admit. Good thoughts, high thoughts, 
bring hope, and hope is sunshine. 



PATIENT ENDURANCE 

But let patience have her perfect work. — St. James i., 4. 

r^ATIENCE is generally classed among the minor 
* virtues, but so much of life's happiness and 
usefulness depend on it that we ought to give it a 
more prominent place. To patiently endure an en- 
vironment which includes suffering and hardship is 
nothing less than heroism, and there are unseen and 
unrecorded instances in which men and women have 
even shown the courage of the martyr. 

Patience is always yoked with other high qualities 
of character. Its nearest ally is self-control, and 
self-control is as important when you are building a 
character as a rudder is when a ship is launched. It 
is literally the steering apparatus which keeps us 
clear of the rocks and shoals of an impetuous and 
reckless temper. I would rather have patience with 
perfect self-control than to have genius, for while 

184 



PATIENT ENDURANCE 1 85 

genius is erratic and often unbalanced, these other 
qualities give us poise and equilibrium. Patience is 
grounded on resignation to the inevitable, which re- 
sults in a calm endurance under exasperating cir- 
cumstances, and in the conviction that it is safer to 
bear the ills we have than to fly to others that we 
know not of. When a man cultivates patience, 
therefore, he becomes master of himself and master 
of whatever may possibly happen. It is a kingly, a 
royal virtue, and more depends on its possession 
than we are apt to think. 

You can reckon its value by considering its oppo- 
site. Impatience is a dangerous quality. It con- 
stantly places your self-respect and your relations to 
your dearest friends in peril. Moreover, it makes 
unhappy circumstances more unhappy still. You 
can't rebel against your surroundings with a com- 
plaining heart without rendering yourself weak to 
oppose or change them. L,ook your life over calmly 
and impartially and you will find that where you 
have been at odds with your lot you have made that 
lot so much the worse and more difficult to get away 
from, whereas, if you had accepted the bitter experi- 
ence and made the best of it, you would have reaped 



1 86 HKRAIJ) SERMONS 

a benefit otherwise impossible. It is equally true 
that where you have been impetuous of speech you 
have had cause for regret, while a curbed tongue 
has been cause for rejoicing. When you have been 
silent you have done better than when you have 
spoken. A bitter word suppressed strengthens the 
character, while a reckless utterance is like a bomb, 
which is sure to injure if it does not kill a friendship. 

It is an inexorable law that three quarters of the 
world must drudge in order to live. You may 
wonder why this should be so, but you will find no 
solution of the puzzle. The simple, stubborn fact 
faces you, and it ends all controversy. Moreover, 
all the world, without exception, must sooner or 
later bear heavy burdens of sorrow and bereavement. 
The normal condition of man is to be a burden 
bearer, and I had almost said it is the only healthy 
condition. There is no smooth road laid down on 
the chart of life. We all trudge through storm and 
sunshine. Poverty, sickness, trouble, death, are to 
be found everywhere. Kings and peasants alike 
have their sorrows. It is the common lot. 

There is only one question to be asked and an- 
swered: How shall we make these experiences 



PATIENT ENDURANCE) 1 87 

contribute to strength of character, and possibly to 
our welfare ? Not, surely, by a restless controversy 
with the inevitable and the inexorable. That state 
of mind only aggravates the evil, without even the 
shadow of a good result. It is your attitude of 
mind and heart which decides your happiness or 
misery. 

Fight fate and you will surely be defeated; not 
only defeated, but soured. On the other hand, 
make the best of the worst, calmly and patiently use 
events and extract from them whatever of good 
they may contain, and your days will swing along 
with a smoothness that will surprise you. More 
and better than that, your calmness and patience 
will have a tendency to draw to j^ou the help of the 
other world, and if you and the other world come to 
a harmonious understanding the very complexion of 
your adverse circumstances will change. 

In a word, the soul which follows in the footsteps 
of the Christ, and in poverty and hard work and 
misfortune bravely meets and nobly endures, will 
find light in unexpected places and joys where only 
fears were looked for. There is a subtle law here, 
and if we can discover it and be guided by it the 



1 88 HERALD SERMONS 

clouds will have a silver lining and even our sorrows 
will prove a blessing. 

God is still with us, and so are the angels of God. 
With patience and courage we may fit ourselves for 
their kind services, and so make good use of the 
roughest places over which we must travel to the 
rest and reward of the glorious future. 



WEEDS AND FLOWERS 

Stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong. — i 
Corinthians xvi., 13. 

{HAVE a neighbor in the country who has a 
garden which he treats in a very peculiar way. 
His theory is that all forces of nature are good 
natured, and that all products of nature should be 
encouraged. Whatever is natural, he tells me, is 
admirable. A weed is just as natural as a rose and 
has just as clear a right to nourish. It is, therefore, 
unfair to discriminate against the weed by pulling 
it up and destroying its life. 

Wishing to see how his theory worked in practice, 
I wandered about his enclosure and found a curious 
state of affairs. The weeds were in a more flourish- 
ing condition than the roses; in fact, they had taken 
possession of the ground and dominated it to such 
an extent that the flowers had well-nigh given up 

the struggle for existence and were on the verge of 

189 



190 HERALD SERMONS 

despair. I vainly tried to convince my neighbor 
that if he wanted nowers he must pull up the weeds, 
for the two do not get on well together. They 
can't be made to harmonize, because weeds are 
greedy and refuse to give nowers a fair chance. 

My neighbor has another peculiar^. He carries 
his theory into the education of his boy. All natural 
impulses are good impulses, he tells me, and it is 
not right to give a child a bias toward this or that 
standard. I^et him show himself just as he is, giv- 
ing perfectly free vent to his good and bad qualities 
of character, and b}' and by he will achieve a well- 
rounded and well-balanced soul. It is the weed 
theory transferred to human nature, and so far as 
my observation of the boy goes it works very badly. 
I rather fear that later on that father's heart will be 
filled with regrets. 

You cannot build a house without a plan. If you 
attempt to do so you will have a curious combination 
whose inconvenience is only equalled bj r its ugliness. 
A house without a plan is not worth living in, and 
a character without a plan is not worth having, It 
is not true that all natural impulses are good, for 
some impulses, when gratified, produce unmixed 



WKKDS AND FI<OWKRS igi 

evil. Not everything that is is right, for some 
things are wholly wrong and must be held in check 
at any cost. If you give the weeds as fair a chance 
as the flowers the time will come when the flowers 
will die and nothing but the weeds will be left. It 
is j List as necessary to pull up certain natural quali- 
ties as to pull up weeds, and unless you do so you 
will find yourself without any character at all. 

There is a stern and awful truth in the injunction 
to pluck your eye out if it offends you. It is a bold 
figure and startling, but it has a profound meaning. 
If, for instance, you give free rein to 3'our selfish- 
ness, it will grow apace to rule and ruin. It will 
creep over 3 T our soul like a smouldering fire on the 
prairie and burn the life out of ever3 T thing good as 
it goes. You must treat it as you would a weed, 
and without any compunction tear it up and hurl it as 
far from you as possible. And if you have a quick 
or an ill temper it is necessary to subdue it if you 
would have peace or happiness. Your very nature 
must be conquered, no matter how hard the fight may 
be. It must be caught, harnessed, bitted, tamed, and 
taught that you are its master and will be obeyed. 

You are simply a bundle of possibilities in the be- 



192 HERAU) SERMONS 

ginning, and if you allow them full swing you will 
become a mass of contradictions. Your business as 
an immortal soul is to look all your tendencies, 
good and bad, squarely in the face and then set to 
work to annihilate some of them, to encourage 
others, and, with a definite purpose in view, to give 
yourself the shape of honest and virile manhood. 
This is not an easy, but it is a glorious task, and it 
ends in the victory over self, the sublime mastery 
which brings self-respect and that dignity which 
comes with poise and conscience. 

The object of religion is to teach you that this is 
the best and noblest thing to do, and that it is the 
only thing which it will pay you to do. That 
struggle is worth your while, for when you find 
yourself well in hand you will possess that quiet 
kind of power which blesses you and the whole 
world alike. This life gives you that sort of dis- 
cipline, and when the lesson is learned you will be 
ready for any other life that may come to you. 
Earth will become a stepping-stone to heaven, for a 
whole man is fitted for any world in God's universe. 
Plant your garden with flowers, and then see that 
weeds do not interfere with their growth. 



TRUE RICHES 

For all things are yours ; whether . . . the world, or 
life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; all are 
yours. — i Corinthians iii., 21, 22. 

IF we were to spend more time trying to be grate- 
* ful for the blessings we enjoy, and less time in 
grumbling because we lack some things which we 
have longed for, we should make our lives more 
agreeable to ourselves and more profitable to others. 
Discontent is a kind of poison which produces 
general debility of the chronic sort, and discontent 
is in many instances the child of envy. It is the 
drop of vinegar which sours the whole temper of the 
man, and instead of being a trusty Toledo blade 
which cuts its cheerful and hopeful way through 
opposing forces, he becomes a poor kind of sword 
which hides in the scabbard when danger demands 
daring. 

*3 

193 



194 HKRAU) SERMONS 

To dwell on the things you do not possess, and to 
feel wronged because others do possess them, is to 
lose the battle before the bugle calls you to the front. 
On the other hand, to foster the ability God has 
given you, to be cheerful in narrow circumstances, 
but to determine to make them wider with favoring 
opportunity, — in other words, to fill your sphere full 
to overflowing with your best self — all this equips 
you for duty, and brings an ultimate victory within 
reach. A sour soul never yet accomplished much 
good for itself or for others. Kyes must be lifted 
toward the heavens, not dropped to the earth, if we 
are to make life comfortable or comforting. 

We really possess many things which are not 
written in the inventory we have taken. St. Paul 
in the text gives us a new viewpoint, one which 
worldliness and selfishness sneer at, but which 
opens a long vista to the vision of the spirit. What 
care you if your neighbor has the title-deed to many 
acres? You own the beauty of the landscape in 
equal partnership with him. The firmament, fretted 
with passing clouds, is not his more than yours. 
You own the world, and its laws contribute to your 
welfare as though you were the only beneficiary of 



TRUK RICHES 195 

their wealth. If your vision is clear you see that 
life also is yours, to make of it all that is possible, 
to cut the rude block of experience into a character 
which shall be beautiful and symmetrical, and to 
force it to give you the password to immortality. 
The God of the universe is yours as truly as though 
you were the only inhabitant of the planet, ready to 
answer your call, always present with a host of 
angelic hands to deliver you from the enemy and to 
lift you to a higher spiritual level. Death also is 
yours, not a foe but a friend, and when the weary 
day is done he leads you from the gathering shadows 
of sunset to the glorious sunrise which floods the 
eternal life. The eye of the body sees only the 
poorest possessions, while the eye of the soul sees 
riches too great to be computed, and these riches are 
yours beyond the reach of litigation. What are 
acres, though their only boundary is the horizon, in 
comparison with thoughts that uplift, aspirations 
which give you wings, and the faith which draws 
aside the curtain of the future and gives you a 
glimpse of what is hidden there ? Palaces are not 
equal to ideas, for one may be miserable though 
knee-deep in gold, while he who has God in his 



196 H3RAU) SERMONS 

home has the magic which makes a hovel a happy- 
home. 

I^et us look at life, which is no longer than a 
dream in the night, as contributory to the soul, not 
to the body, for a man is not a body with a soul in 
it, but a soul with a body wrapped round it. If you 
were to spend a short hour each day in quiet medi- 
tation of the blessings you enjoy, brushing aside all 
envy and selfishness; one short hour in getting a 
firm hold on yourself — your better, truer, nobler self 
— you would be transfigured and life would be en- 
riched. We are not depraved; we are thoughtless. 
There is a divinity within us which is cramped, 
dwarfed, and unable to express itself. Give it free- 
dom, let it act and speak, crown it with authority, 
and you will behold a miracle. Thrust aside the 
mean by thinking of yourself as the child of God 
with a destiny that stretches into the invisible 
eternity. 

In that direction lies the only religion that can 
hold its own against the ills to which flesh is heir. 
That way also lie cheerfulness, contentment, peace, 
and happiness, possessions to be prized above all 
else that earth can offer. If you have God and 



true: riches 197 

Christ and immortality, you are rich, but without 
them you are poor indeed, though wealth is your 
most humble servant. 



A SIMPLE RELIGION 

Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. — St. 
James iv., 8. 

ONE need not think very profoundly to find the 
necessity for a religion of some sort which 
will not only make this life tolerable, but also useful 
and hopeful. 

He who lives without a definite purpose achieves 
no higher end than to serve as a warning to others. 
He is a kind of bell-buoy, mournfully tolled by the 
waves of circumstance, to mark the rocks or shoals 
which are to be avoided. 

What the sun-glass does to the sun's rays, — con- 
verge them until they become a blazing and irre- 
sistible point,— that a definite purpose does to the 
energies of the soul. It brings them to a focus, and 
achievement follows as a matter of course. 

The principle holds equally with purposes which 
198 



A SIMPI/E RELIGION 199 

are either good or bad. Men who accomplish untold 
evil are focused men just as truly as the martyrs 
were who went to the stake for the truth's sake. It 
requires as much energy to do a colossal wrong as to 
do a colossal good. The villain and the saint are 
both men of perhaps equal resources, giants in their 
different ways. 

There must therefore be something behind the 
mere fact of energy if life is to be all it can be, and 
that something is consecration. Religion furnishes 
the highest aim which souls can conceive, and plans 
a house for you to build in which you can live with- 
out regret, honored on earth and approved in heaven. 
Religion is consequently a necessity. 

If I were to define religion I should say it is the 
science of ideal development, and its product is a 
character in which duty is the first thought, because 
the soul has been kindled by fire borrowed from the 
altar of God. The revelation of this religion in the 
New Testament is put in such simple and under- 
standable terms that the world has mystified and 
misunderstood it. We have persistently declared 
that there must be an occult element in it which 
does not appear on the surface, and theologians have 



200 HERALD SKRMONS 

mistaken their own surmises for the thoughts of 
Christ, and so put religion at such a distance from 
the common intelligence that it has lost its practical 
usefulness. The mission of the Christ was to fix a 
beacon light amid the shadows of the present and 
future, and to assure us that if we walk steadily in 
that direction we shall find peace and rest for to- 
day, and heaven for to-morrow. His religion con- 
sists of a conscious harmony between the soul and 
the soul's creator,— nothing more and nothing less. 
Everything in the universe is religious by the 
sweet compulsion of God's will except man. He 
alone can be a wanderer. Stars and clouds, the 
trees of the forest, the flowers of the field, the seed 
which the farmer sows, and the sunshine and dew, 
whose magic bring the autumn crop, are all working 
with a purpose. They have a duty to fulfil, and 
they do it. All nature consists of a multitude of 
laws, which, like so many intelligent beings, are 
cheerfully doing the work which the Infinite Being 
gave into their charge. It is this fact which makes 
the world such a beautiful place to live in. The 
unseen violet is as happy in its obscurity as the bird 
which chirps in the branches above it. If we had 



A SIMPIvK RELIGION 20I 

ears to hear we should discover that each particle of 
the universe is singing its note in the great gamut 
of universal life, and each little voice swells the 
general chorus of praise to Him who seeks the hap- 
piness of animate and inanimate through obedience 
to His will. 

If man would be as happy as the rest of the world, 
he, too, must be obedient. Dishonesty and self- 
seeking are injurious because they are discords. 
Who seeks the welfare of others finds his own at 
the same time, and he who bestows reaps more than 
he has sowed. The secret is to give, not to get. 
The rose gives its perfume, the wheat-field multi- 
plies itself, glad to fill the barn to the rooftree ; the 
sun is prodigal of its heat and the stars of their light. 
Christ gave Himself, and God is always giving with 
a generous hand. Man alone grasps, clutches, tries 
to keep, and finds at last that he has lost what he 
most desired to gain. One may even sacrifice his 
life and thereby win riches beyond computation. 
Worship self and you grow poor; worship God and 
you lay up treasures. That is the law, and it stands 
on the statute-books of eternity, unrepealed and un- 
repealable. It is the mystery of Christ's teaching, 



202 H^RAI^D SERMONS 

a revelation which the world has never yet read with 
appreciative mind and heart. 

That kind of religion needs no creed except the 
creed of love. It is the philosophy of usefulness and 
happiness. You will never reach your full stature 
until you make it your own. It smooths the rugged 
path of life, it sheds light amid the shadows and dis- 
sipates all gloom. You may struggle, but in the 
struggle there is a heaven-born strength, until you 
wonder that you can bear and do so much. You 
may lie down to die, but gates open to your dim 
vision the memory of which leaves a smile on your 
lips when Death has finished his task. 

God becomes a conscious element in your life, and 
the Christ becomes your companion. You and they 
walk together, through life, through death, to an 
eternity of work, of opportunity, of peace, and of 
love. 



SIGNS OF the; times 

Can ye not discern the signs of the times ? — St. Matthew 
xvi.,3. 

HPHERK are those who seem to regard the age in 

* which we live as wholly submerged in the sea 

of material things. I am convinced, however, that 

spiritual and religious concerns are regarded with 

equal earnestness. 

We can hardly be blamed if we are fascinated by 

the world wherein we have set our tents for a short 

sojourn. Not only is our earthly life an exquisite 

delight which has been alluring in all centuries and 

to all races, but in addition to this the inventive 

genius of man has recently opened up such a whirl 

of novelties which increase our comfort and bring 

new possibilities within reach that we linger as long 

as we can and stretch the span of existence as much 

as we may. 

This is not at all strange, neither is it a fact to be 
203 



204 HERALD SKRMONS 

deplored. While we remain we ought to enjoy our 
stay. The old legend that we are in a vale of tears 
is becoming misty, for the victories of science have 
given to this present time a kind of glamour, and 
the half- visible and half-achieved victories over the 
problems of the future make us wish ourselves 
younger that we might see what the coming century 
will bring. When the sun first creeps above the 
hilltops we long to witness the full blaze of its glory 
at midday. 

But there is a deal of serious thought concerning 
the career of the soul when it can no longer remain 
in the body. I doubt if there has ever been an age 
when a solution of spiritual mysteries was more 
eagerly sought than now, or when mankind had a 
keener interest in everything pertaining to the next 
life. However glad we may be that we are here, 
and however anxious to remain as long as possible, 
we recognize the fact that the swift current is bear- 
ing us to eternity, and that fact urges us to discover 
all we can concerning the to-morrow that lies beyond 
to-day. The mental attitude of this generation is 
one of careful inquiry about the future, and every 
new suggestion is listened to with respectful atten- 



SIGNS OF THE; TIMES 205 

tion. If we are absorbed in the things of earth 
there is also a profound underflow of belief, not 
merely of hope but of practical conviction that death 
is only a way station in the soul's journey, and I am 
bold to say that there is more faith in the essential 
principles of true religion than ever before. 

Forms and ceremonies count for less and less. 
We have dug into the lower depths and found some- 
thing better. It is not what we believe but what we 
are that makes or mars. Investigation has trimmed 
away many of the dead branches, but the trunk of 
the tree has the old-time vigor, and its roots run 
deeper into the soil of human motives and aspira- 
tions. Dogmas have dropped like overripe fruit, 
but the love of truth holds its own in the heart of 
man, and the new thought, like a new garment, not 
only fits us better than the old, but is more useful. 
The value of all the sterling qualities of character is 
emphasized, and we have questioned death so eagerly 
that we no longer dread what it can do. When we 
close the eyes of a dear one in sleep our grief is as- 
suaged by the conviction that in some other clime 
and in some other environment our hands shall be 
clasped in reunion and we shall continue our work 



206 HERALD SERMONS 

under more favorable circumstances. Heaven is 
more real, more vivid, than it was to our fathers. 
They thought of it with an imagination, while our 
concept is practical. To them it was a strange 
place, a foreign territory, while to us it runs parallel 
with this life. Those who have gone have neither 
lost their affection for nor their interest in us. We 
are indebted to them for constant service, and bound 
to them by unbroken ties. 

Thus are we ever walking toward the light, and 
rejoicing in it more and more. Thus is the human 
heart opening its spiritual windows, and we can now 
stand in the home and look downward to the broad- 
ening landscape and upward toward the stars. Thus 
also is a vital religion, one to live by and die by, re- 
vealing itself to us and creating each year a new 
surprise. Religion is not a creed, though it must 
needs have one; it is not a ritual, though that may 
be helpful. Religion is a motive, the dynamic force 
which drives us in the direction of larger and wider 
truth. Thus, moreover, after these many centuries 
of spiritual and intellectual groping, we are coming 
to understand the Christ for the first time. It is be- 
coming plainer to us that love, stretching its hands 



SIGNS OF THE TIMES 207 

toward the infinite love, and then scattering love 
along the somewhat dull and burdened pathway of 
life, is the only thing worth a supreme effort, for it 
is the essence of all that we can hope for here and 
the promise of all we can pray for in the hereafter. 

We should make the best of what we have and be 
happy in the thought of what the future will bring. 



BURDEN-BKARING 

In the world ye shall have tribulation : but be of good 
cheer ; I have overcome the world. — St. John xvi., 33. 

I T seems to be the law that no one shall be exempt 
* from trials, discomforts, and tribulations. The 
tears of the poet are no less bitter than those of the 
peasant. The heart of wealth is quite as liable to 
break as the heart of poverty. Money loses its pur- 
chasing power when one asks for happiness. Sor- 
row makes the whole world one vast democracy, in 
which no one can claim exclusive rights. 

The stern, hard fact is that our outward life sel- 
dom is what we would like to have it. It is a kind 
of kaleidoscope, and as every day gives it a turn a 
new and perhaps a wholly unexpected picture is pre- 
sented. Life is like a year in the tropics — at one 
moment a blaze of sunshine and at another a shower 
of tears. No foresight can prevent, no skill can 

avoid, these changes. 

208 



BURDEN- BEARING 209 

The great question, therefore, which thrusts itself 
into the foreground is, How shall we use these 
changes to our spiritual advantage ? That question 
answered, and answered correctly, we have solved 
the most solemn and the grandest problem that con- 
fronts the human race. 

Sorrows may produce either of two results — one 
bad, the other good. They may put us out of har- 
mony with the providence of God, incline us to deny 
His existence and attribute our misfortune to blind 
chance, thus embittering the soul and making it 
restless, uncomfortable, and at odds with everything 
and everybody. If fate rules the world — and fate is 
both blind and capricious, giving or withholding ac- 
cording to its whim or mood — there is no room on 
which to build either faith or resignation. Your 
attitude renders it impossible to get much good out 
of experience, because what comes depends on a 
throw of the dice. There is neither providence nor 
oversight anywhere, and you are in a state of rebel- 
lion against the powers which are in command of 
circumstances. 

I have known men who have logically convinced 

themselves that they are neither part nor parcel of 
14 



2IO HKRAIJ) SERMONS 

any benign plan or purpose, who simply drift like a 
chip on the tide, and who have no recourse except 
to take what comes with as good a grace as they 
can. Such lives are hard to live, because doubt is a 
staff of willow which bends under their weight, 
while faith is a staff of oak on which they could 
safely lean for support. 

Sorrows may also lead the mind to grave and rich 
conclusions ; teach us that we are not masters in the 
universe ; that there is a controlling and mandatory 
intelligence which it is folly to resist, and that our 
safety, our serenity, our happiness, and our education 
lie in some close and confiding intimacy with that 
intelligence. This intimacy once established, like 
a friendship about which there is no suspicion, we 
have the essential elements of true religion. L,ife 
assumes a different aspect ; bitterness becomes im- 
possible. The guide is always true, and can be 
trusted. You may go through miry places, but the 
guide goes with 3^ou and his words of encourage- 
ment sustain you. His object is not so much to 
make your journey pleasant as to make it profitable. 
You are working your way toward the future, and 
when you reach it you will see, what it is hard to 



BURDKN-BEARING 2 1 1 

discover now, that your sorrows had their mission; 
that they contributed to your wholeness, and were 
necessary to your development, 

Our theory is too often based on misinformation. 
To an immortal soul this life is an insignificant de- 
tail. It is important just as an infant school is im- 
portant. The child is taught something — and that 
something is almost always irksome — which fits it 
for a higher realm of education. I^ife also is irk- 
some, but if we take a large view of it we see that it 
is preparatory, prefatory — not the end of all things, 
but their feeble beginning. No man really lives 
until he dies. The other life will be infinitely better 
than this, as the man of full stature is more and 
better than the infant playing with toys. 

Shut out the other world and there is literally 
nothing left. Not to live again is not to have lived 
at all. Destroy your hope, your aspiration, and 
think of yourself as a little creature smiling or weep- 
ing for an hour, and then fading into oblivion, and 
you shrivel and shrink into a dwarf. 

The religion of the Christ comes to the rescue of 
our doubts and fears. The vision of immortality is 
like a beacon-light on a dark night. That religion 



212 HKRAX.D SERMONS 

gives you so large and noble a prospect that you 
feel like a young giant who will some time get his 
growth. Religion, therefore, is health, strength, 
virile vigor, helping you to bear great burdens and 
to meet the strange vicissitudes which lie in ambush, 
as the brave Sir Knight does who fears nothing be- 
cause he is larger than his enemies and is sure of the 
victory. 

A thoughtful soul, conscious that it came from 
God and is destined to reach heaven, looking on 
duty as the source of peace, pushing aside the ills of 
life or bearing them with a serene and unchangeable 
faith, presents the most impressive picture which 
the whole universe affords. 



BE OF GOOD CHEER 

For what I would, that do I not ; but what I hate, that 
do I. — Romans vii., 15. 

T3 Y that confession St. Paul unwittingly endeared 
*— * himself to all the generations of men. There 
is not only satisfaction but encouragement in the 
fact that a person as large as he had occasion to re- 
proach himself for his shortcomings, just as we of 
smaller stature do. When the teacher who has en- 
joyed the privilege of special communion with the 
Most High admits that it is extremely difficult to 
always live on the level of his ideal we can take 
heart, because, though we lapse every now and 
again, there is no reason why we should not succeed 
in the end. The master of the violin may once in 
a while strike a false note, and still be master; so 
the pupil may only once in a while strike the true 

note and yet make good progress toward perfection. 

213 



214 hkrald sermons 

The best is our rightful possession, but we must 
earn it. The religious life is one of the few things 
in this world which cannot be bought. The good 
father cannot leave it as an inheritance to his son. 
Lands and other riches can be left by will to whom- 
soever the testator chooses, but a noble character 
goes with the soul when it leaves the body, and if 
the heirs desire the same distinction they must work 
for it and deserve it. Nobility, honesty, self-con- 
trol, kindliness, charity, are strictly personal posses- 
sions, and those who have them have fashioned 
them out of the raw material of human experience. 

Our sevent}' 3 T ears are sixnply a workshop supplied 
with whatever is necessary for the construction of a 
perfect character. God furnishes the model in the 
Christ, and Christ has left us the rules by which the 
ideal is to be attained. We make a thousand failures 
before it is possible to achieve success, but each 
failure is a milestone showing how far we have 
advanced. 

The sculptor does not make a statue which gives 
him fame at the first trial. He wastes time and clay 
and marble, and frequently feels like surrendering in 
despair. But if ambition or genius keeps aflame he 



BE OF GOOD CHKKR 215 

forgets the things that are behind, presses forward 
with renewed endeavor, and at last, after struggles 
which test his endurance, cuts his dream out of the 
block of stone and writes his name ' ' in tracings of 
eternal light," 

There is no doubt that life is hard. This is true 
of us all; not of the poor alone, but of the most 
gifted as well. For reasons of His own God has 
made the way to heaven very rough. It is not a 
steady upward climb. We may be helped and 
cheered by those who love us, but the higher level 
is never reached without personal effort. There are 
moments when we are ready to give up, with the 
dread feeling that life is not worth living. Human 
nature has its moods, its discouragements, and at 
such times we are hopeless. Only God can sym- 
pathize with us, and He pities us, even as an earthly 
father pities his children, and only God has hope of 
our final achievement. 

There is no human being who has not passed 
through this experience. It is the way the crude 
ore feels when it is being smelted or when it is 
placed under the trip-hammer and the very life is, 
with seeming cruelty, crushed out of it. But the 



2l6 HERALD SERMONS 

crude ore is purified by every stroke, though it 
knows it not, and when the hammer ceases to smite 
the metal is worth a thousand times more than when 
it slumbered on the mountain-side in its natural 
state. 

So God's providence places us in hard straits, 
forces the tears to our eyes, furrows our brows with 
many a care, robs us of the presence of dear ones, 
and darkens the sky with clouds. You do what 
you would not, and what you hoped to do seems 
impossible. And yet, if you are broad enough and 
clear-sighted enough to see into the centre of things, 
these evils are all good ; behind these tears you will 
find a smile, and beyond the vale of separation rises 
the sunny land of immortality which will reunite 
the broken ties and give you rest after honest toil. 

The religion of the New Testament reveals the 
possibilities which can only be realized by just such 
experiences as those through which you are now 
passing. God expects that we shall be discouraged, 
that we shall sometimes be at cross-purposes with 
life, that we shall stumble and fall. But above all 
this lies the fact that Heaven beckons us, that out of 
every sorrow we can wring a higher hope, and that 



BE OF GOOD CHEER 21 7 

the view from the mountain-top is worth more than 
the effort we make to reach it. 

Give us the divine optimism which insists that all 
is well whether it seems so or not, give us the un- 
faltering faith that at eventide there shall be light, 
and then we shall find ourselves close to the Throne. 
With courage comes hope, and with hope comes 
success. 



GOD AND THE SOUL 

Like as a father pitieth his children. — Psalm ciii., 13. 

I N the gallery of my memory there hangs a very 
* simple picture which I never look at without 
peculiar satisfaction. The incident occurred many 
years ago, but it is as fresh in my mind as this 
morning's rosebud. 

A father and a child were roaming through a wide 
country pasture. The little one prattled in the sun- 
shine, now clinging to the father's hand in an ecstasy 
of confidence, and now flying as fast at its feet could 
carry it to a thicket where the wild flowers grew. 
When away from the immediate presence of the 
protector the child would turn every now and again 
to be sure that the father was there, as though for 
the moment it had forgotten that it was not alone, 
and then, with the delightful certainty of being care- 
fully watched, would roam still farther, intent on 

some new object. 

218 



GOD AND THK SOUL 2IO, 

Suddenly danger appeared in the ominous bark of 
a dog. The child felt the instant need of guardian- 
ship, and with trembling haste rushed to the father's 
embrace, its cheeks blanched with fear, its eyes rilled 
with tears. The strong arms, however, were no 
sooner round him than he grew calm again and the 
old smile returned. The consciousness of absolute 
safety destroyed the terror of the dog's bark, because 
father and child were heart to heart. 

That is a very imperfect symbol of the true re- 
lation between God and the soul. Nothing will 
exactly typify that relation, but a strong and wise 
father and a little child dependent on him will serve 
our purpose. 

A thorough appreciation of the fact that God is 
alwaj^s close to us, is always interested in our wel- 
fare, is alwa3 r s within call when we stand in need of 
help, would be equivalent to a revolution in the life 
of the world. To-day it is a blind fact, or a fact 
to which we are blinded, and its practical value is 
therefore reduced to a minimum. We assent to the 
statement as a boy in school assents to a demonstra- 
tion on the blackboard, but who does not assimilate 
the truth and after recess forgets all about it. If he 



220 HERALD SERMONS 

could once fix it in his brain it would last a lifetime 
and help him to solve many a hard problem. 

Whether it is too large a fact for our present in- 
telligence, or whether we are so absorbed in material 
things that we thrust it aside, I cannot say. But 
this I know, that if I could convince you that though 
you are but an atom in the great aggregate of hu- 
manity and your life is only a single thread in the 
vast fabric of progress, still the sun by day and the 
moon and stars by night shine for you as though 
you were the only being on earth and they were 
created to serve you in just that way ; that God is 
your personal God, filling your life with His pres- 
ence, ready, willing, anxious to serve you as though 
heaven and earth were made for you alone, I would 
fill you with conscious dignity, and so enlarge your 
conception of your destiny that you would be trans- 
formed and transfigured. 

That thought is central in the Bible. The Deca- 
logue and the Sermon on the Mount swing on it as 
on a pivot. That one thought constitutes true re- 
ligion. For eighteen centuries it has been vibrating 
through the generations, and you and I have looked 
at it and not recognized it. It is, indeed, the whole 



GOD AND THE SOUIv 221 

of religion, for he who has God in his heart owns 
the universe and must needs keep his face turned 
toward heaven. 

To know that all the forces of the universe are on 
your side and will assist in your development is a 
heritage into the full possession of which we have 
not yet entered ; a truth so grand that he who re- 
ceives it becomes ennobled ; a truth so precious that 
when the shoulders bend beneath the burdens of life 
the soul still rejoices, for the power to bear is given 
by Him who is at your side, though invisible. 

The religion which has that for its pivotal point is 
like the bugle-call which announces victory. Hu- 
man and divine have met and become one. God 
and man are working for the same sublime purpose. 
The Christ has at last achieved His mission. What 
is to be borne will be borne in the sublime conscious- 
ness that even the hard passages of life lead to 
greater light. Some may weep, but wet eyes see 
beyond the clouds the outstretched hands of loved 
ones beckoning the weary soul to its rest. That 
thought is the beginning, mean, and end of all 
things, and man rises to a knowledge of his sonship 
to the Father. 



222 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

God in the heart a welcome guest ! L,ife a school 
from which to graduate, the lessons learned, into 
the Nearer Presence! Grasp this truth, guard it, 
and every day will become a stepping-stone to 
higher things. 



HEAVEN 

Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered 
into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared 
for them that love him. — i Corinthians ii., 9. 

T^ ROM each successive elevation which we labori- 
*- ously reach we get a wider horizon. In the 
valley where we made our start we could see but 
little, and that not quite distinctly, but as we climbed 
higher we not only got a wider view, but more light. 
A strange thing happened to us. What we 
thought true when we were in the lowlands we 
found to be untrue when we climbed high enough 
to see more, and to see it more clearly. We dis- 
covered that on certain subjects our opinions were 
constantly changing. The truth did not change, 
and never will, but our opinion of what the truth is 
underwent a change with the accession of every 

group of new facts. 

223 



224 HERALD SERMONS 

The earth, for example, was perfectly flat, and it 
was the centre of the universe. What science we 
possessed proved this conclusively, and he was made 
of queer stuff who could entertain a doubt on that 
subject. But the years passed, a wider knowledge 
broke in upon us, and we were compelled to sur- 
render our old beliefs and take on new ones. The 
earth not only became round, but it swung away 
from the centre of the universe and became an in- 
significant orb in an obscure corner. 

But in nothing have we made such advances or 
thrown aside so many cherished convictions as in 
the matter of religion. Especially is this true of our 
conception of the future life. It would be as im- 
possible to accept the notions of our fathers on this 
subject as to wear the clothes of our childhood. 
We have a belief which is more rational than theirs 
and more in accordance with universal law. Their 
idea of Heaven was more like a fairy tale than a his- 
toric fact. They found but little comfort in it, for 
at death there was a break in the home circle which 
could not be mended until the far-away day of resur- 
rection had come and gone. Between Heaven and 
earth there was no highway of communication, and 



HEAVEN 225 

the future was a long and pitiful blank, without a 
ray of joyous or cheering sunshine. As one said to 
me who represented the old faith : ' ' My child and I 
have parted. The relation of parent and daughter 
has been severed. As a redeemed angel she will 
not know me. ' ' I could not wonder that his heart 
was well-nigh broken, for she was his all, and he 
would have freely given his life for her. His tears 
came, his breast heaved with anguish, and, though 
he was as noble a Christian as ever breathed, he 
was without consolation and had to be content with 
that kind of resignation which closely resembles 
despair. Our fathers believed that, and their 
churchyards were the gloomiest spots on earth — 
acres not green with hopes, but arid and parched. 

We have a larger view than that. We plant 
flowers on graves. Our faith is bright as the land- 
scape at noonday, and if there is a shadow it is made 
by a passing cloud and does not linger. We have a 
new Scripture, or a Scripture with new light thrown 
upon it. Death is no longer a dread spectre, but a 
solemn event which ushers the unforgetting soul 
into the nearer presence of a Father who has pre- 
pared a home for us, and will bring us and our loved 
15 



226 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

ones together again. We have dispelled the gloom 
connected with thoughts of death. We say ' ' Good- 
night " with a tear, but with the certainty of saying 
" Good-morning" with a smile. 

In all our creed nothing has changed so much or 
blessed us with as much good cheer as our concep- 
tion of Heaven. It is not the place of harps and 
songs, for the sturdy souls which pass life's boun- 
dary shall be sturdy still, the heroic shall find op- 
portunity for heroism, and the work of God, done 
by his faithful servants, shall still go on as it went 
on here. We shall have life more abundantly — 
active, virile, noble life. Heaven is the consecrated 
toiler's home, and the unfinished task of to-day 
shall be taken up to-morrow. Death may call us 
before the hours of labor are over, but eternity will 
furnish us with hours enough to pursue our work 
until it is completed. 

So it makes little difference whether we are here 
or there. We are ourselves wherever we are, our 
holy ambitions are not quenched, the flame of love 
is not extinguished, and memory still holds dear 
those who were dear on earth. So we put aside the 
childish things of the past and put on the garments 



HEAVEN 227 

of a lofty and immortal manhood. Heaven will 
bring us and our loved ones together once more, 
and in that blessed life which gilds our declining 
years as the setting sun gilds the clouds of the West 
we shall gradually realize those things which the 
heart of man cannot conceive. I^ove God, and there 
is no danger either here or elsewhere. Be true, 
faithful, loyal, and you will hear welcoming voices 
when you stand on the border-land. 



A HUMBLE LIFE 

Whosoever shall give a cup of cold water. — St. Matthew 
x., 42. 



M 



Y friend and I were looking at a bit of exquisite 
tapestry. It was the product of a loom that 
had brains and a soul. Generations had gazed upon 
it with admiration, but I doubt if any one had done 
so with more reverence than my friend and I. He 
called my attention to the coloring of the central 
figure, to the dignity of its pose, as though it were 
half conscious that it represented the nobility of 
thought and deed which has always been the world's 
ideal. 

Then, having assented to his criticism, I ventured 
to remark that three quarters of the threads in the 
picture constituted a background at which no one 
looked a second time. Still, each separate thread 

was necessary to the perfection of the whole. The 

228 



A HUMBLE UFK 229 

dull gray was as truly a component part of that 
whole as the brilliant colors in face or robe. What 
nobody ever saw was as important as what every- 
body looked at. The unnoticed thread on the 
farthest edge had its mission, and who shall judge 
its worth by its failure to excite admiration? I said 
to my heart that to be conspicuous is not the chief 
factor, and I thought to myself that perhaps the 
dullest thread in the entire fabric, were it endowed 
with consciousness, might be as happy with its 
humble task as its brother thread which was woven 
into the halo above the head. That bit of tapestry 
is a somewhat sad and pathetic symbol of humanity. 
There are some among us of whom it may be said 
that they have been decreed to be successful in 
worldly affairs without any special merit on their 
part, and our crime is that they excite jealousy and 
envy in us, which is not only discouraging, but gives 
us a feeling that injustice has been done. Their 
work has a blaze of light on it, and becomes his- 
torical. Our work, on the contrary, is done in a 
corner, and though we be honest and faithful, we 
live without observation, and die unknown and, 
therefore, unregretted. We are the threads in the 



230 HERALD SERMONS 

background, demoralized because we are not con- 
spicuous. 

But whether our task is great or little, it is the 
task that God has set us, and that fact should give 
us good cheer. What matter is it whether we are 
in the world's eye if what we do is done well and 
with a true heart ? Is anything small in the judg- 
ment of the Almighty ? Is a man of no account in 
heaven because he is of no account on the earth ? 
Are riches, or fame, or great deeds, in peace or war, 
any foundation for happiness? If we do our best 
with what He has set us to do, need we wony be- 
cause men do not look at us as we pass by ? Is it 
applause or is it faithfulness that we seek ? 

" I am so little," moaned one the other daj^; " in 
the great aggregate I am so insignificant that I am 
quite invisible." That may be true, and yet one 
may build a great character out of honest though 
humble work as well as in the midst of great oppor- 
tunities. It is not what you do, but how you do it, 
which decides your fate. Once get rid of desiring a 
high place, and be satisfied to do an honest day's 
work, the whole of it God's work, and you will 
make a little world for yourself, in which the spirit 



A HUMBLE UFK 23I 

of Christ and contentment will dwell. Instead of 
comparing your condition with that of others, and 
so disturbing your soul, if you would think it enough 
to have the approval of God and conscience, and to 
labor cheerily, making the best of what you have, 
you would find yourself stronger, healthier, and 
happiei , 

The Christ is our example in this as in all other 
things. He had no jealous}' of the good fortune of 
others, but lived His own life amid the surroundings 
which God ordained. He found pleasure in the 
friendship of those who were loyal, and when sorrow 
came the companionship of the other world sustained 
Him. What this world could not supply He drew 
from the upper realms. He and the Father worked 
together, and a peace which passeth understanding 
was the consequence, 

Be yourself, therefore. Measure your worth by 
the standard of duty well done, not by the opinion 
of others. What they think of you is a matter of 
small concern, but what your conscience thinks of 
you is important. Be strong enough and inde- 
pendent enough to care for nothing except the 
right and true. You will not then need to seek 



232 HERALD SERMONS 

for happiness, because it will come as sunshine comes 
to chase away the darkness. The smallest soul is 
great in the judgment of God; therefore keep that 
soul pure and manly, with Heaven always in sight. 



TEMPTATION 

For God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he 
any man. — St. James i., 13, 

HPHERE are very few persons who have not been 
* sorely tempted to do what neither reason nor 
conscience would approve. To resist is to add fibre 
to your character and to yield is to lose what it is 
very difficult to regain — your self-respect. 

Temptation never comes out into the open and 
never argues fairly. It does not dare to tell the 
whole truth, but presents a subject in the light of 
false logic, gilds a bad argument until it looks like 
gold, and always leaves its victim to immeasurable 
regret, 

A despotic conscience which does not know how 

to surrender is the safest guide we can have, for then 

one can look Heaven and earth in the face; but if for 

some promised good or pleasure we bid our con- 

233 



234 HERALD SERMONS 

science vacate its throne, happiness and peace of 
mind take their departure. There is, therefore, 
nothing on the planet of so much worth as a clean 
conscience. If you have it for a bedfellow your 
sleep will not be disturbed, 

I have watched the subtle processes of temptation 
in myself and others. It comes in the guise of good 
advice in order the more easily to accomplish your 
ruin. It sneers at your moral sense, assures you 
that we are here to enjoy ourselves in whatever way 
opportunity may offer, and declares that your scruples 
have no solid foundation. If you do not grasp the 
offered advantage some one else will, therefore do 
not hesitate. You are only too willing to listen, 
and while you do so your moral sense is being 
dulled. Reiteration of this false reasoning still 
further undermines your rectitude, and after a while 
you pretend to be convinced, but it is only a pre- 
tence. The deed is done and then you wake up to 
find that while you have gained something you have 
lost still more. You have gained a well-filled purse 
or you have indulged in some demoralizing pleasure, 
but you have lost a well-filled heart and learned 
what it is to hate yourself. 



TEMPTATION 235 

It is a somewhat cruel world, because false esti- 
mates of what constitutes happiness have thrown so 
many temptations in our way. There is an over- 
valuation of money and an under- valuation of moral 
principle. The race is so eager, so wild, so intoxi- 
cating that we forget everything except to get ahead 
of our competitors, and the means we take to ac- 
complish this are justified, we think, by the fact of 
winning. As a consequence the tone of life is 
lowered and we measure a man by what he has, not 
by what he is. The bank account rather than the 
character excites our envy. Riches and the pursuit 
of riches are the bases of orderly society, provided 
riches and rectitude are interwoven; but riches 
without the rectitude are of no benefit to any one. 

Men and women are too ready to pay a thought- 
less, a reckless price for the goods they covet. Fame 
is worth something, and so is reputation, if it is hon- 
estly earned, but if you compromise your honor you 
are practically selling your soul. 

What we need in this generation is a heroic dose 
of that old-fashioned corrective — moral principle. 
The only real man, the only man who is recognized 
in heaven, is the upright and the downright man. 



236 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

It may be hard to persuade the public of this truth, 
but it is the truth nevertheless, and cannot be evaded 
or ignored. If a nation or an individual is to live 
comfortably it must live virtuously. False standards 
mean false and wretched lives, and the logic of 
events will make that fact known with terrific 
emphasis. 

Honesty comes first, and after that anything you 
can get. When you give up the honesty, the purity 
of heart, in exchange for anything else you suddenly 
find that you have been cheated out of j^our best 
self. The object of life is not to acquire, not that 
solely, unless it be to acquire character. Your 
temptation to gash your conscience is based on a 
promise which will never be kept, or if the worldly 
goods are delivered you will be robbed of something 
worth a great deal more. Stiffen your conscience 
until it will not feel the force of temptation, and 
then you will be ready for life, for death, and for 
any other world to which you may go when your 
term on earth expires. 

The only thing to set men right and keep them 
right is the Sermon 011 the Mount. It is the thought 
of others which consecrates the thought of self. A 



TEMPTATION 237 

staff and scrip with a clean heart will do more for 
human happiness than whatever else you may de- 
sire, and until we get back to that fact and to a full 
appreciation of it we shall fail in the great essentials. 



THK MOTHERHOOD OF GOD 

He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in 
him. — i John iv., 16. 

HPHB use of the word ' l motherhood ' ' in this con- 
* nection may strike you as somewhat odd at 
first, but on reflection you will see that it is pecu- 
liarly appropriate. The qualities of character which 
on are suggested by the word ' ' mother ' ' are those 
which we spacially depend in our relations with 
God and those which have specially opened our 
hearts to Him. 

If we look upward through the word ' ( father ' ' 
our conception of God is not complete, for in the last 
analysis it is our home life which colors our religious 
aspirations, and however dear the father may be 
there is a certain range of attributes in the mind 
and heart of the mother which are absolutely neces- 
sary to a perfect spiritual education. 

238 



THK MOTHERHOOD OF GOD 239 

It is for that reason that God established the 
home as the nursery of every soul as it makes its 
entrance into this earthly life. The mother's in- 
fluence is based on some elements which are not 
conspicuous in the father, and so what the father 
may not be able to do because he works along differ- 
ent lines the mother easily accomplishes because she 
is by nature more tender, more appealing, and more 
loving. 

Under the watchful care of a wise father and a 
sympathetic mother the youth imbibes a dual life, 
on one side strong and manly, on the other pure, 
kindly, and womanly. No man, therefore, is per- 
fect unless he combines in himself the rugged force 
of the father, his power to do brave battle with cir- 
cumstance, and the gentleness, the kindliness, the 
sensitiveness which only a mother can impart. 

One difficulty with the theology of the past is that 
it has been too masculine. God was regarded by 
former generations as an omnipotent autocrat. The 
argument ran that He not only could do as He 
pleased, but that He had a right to do as He pleased 
without reference to His creatures, and that idea 
embodied in the popular creed made religion cold, 



240 HERALD SERMONS 

rigid, and unattractive. A man's conception of 
omnipotence includes a kind of selfishness, the ex- 
ercise of power with entire disregard of the happi- 
ness of those over whom the power is used. The 
dogmas which make us tremble as we read them 
had their origin in that conception, which, if the 
New Testament is true, is a curious and unwar- 
ranted misconception. The God of our fathers was 
a being to be afraid of, not one to whose arms you 
would fly for protection as a frightened child seeks 
its mother's embrace. There was an imperial au- 
thority in His voice which meant either implicit 
obedience or an appalling condemnation; not obe- 
dience through love of Him who gave the command, 
but through fear of consequences if the command 
was unheeded. 

We have happily learned to read the Scriptures 
in a better way. We now know that the laws of 
nature are our friends, and if we break them there 
is no anger in their retributive justice, but only 
sorrow. More than that, they are pitiful and sym- 
pathetic, and the moment we see our error and try 
to amend it they will help us to recover our lost 
estate. In these very laws of nature there is not 



THE MOTHERHOOD OF GOD 24 1 

only a sternness which will brook no wilful neglect, 
but also a motherliness w T hich binds up our wounds, 
watches over us with tender solicitude, and with 
boundless love draws us away from the wrong, and 
leads us toward the right. 

The whole universe is on the side of the repentant 
sinner. You cannot regret your downward course, 
cannot aspire to a better and higher life, but certain 
natural forces are thereby set in motion to lend you 
a helping hand, lift you out of the mire of remorse 
and set your feet on solid ground. In a word, the 
operation of natural law is motherly. 

And so we have at last come to think of that side 
of God which is so tender and loving and forgiving 
and encouraging that it can be best expressed by the 
word mother. Omnipotence can be pitiful and full 
of sympathy as well as imperative. If you have 
neglected your opportunities, have yielded to temp- 
tation, have fallen to a low spiritual level, and are 
conscious of it and regret the fact and are determined 
to mend the past by a noble future, there is not a 
star in the firmament, not an angel among all the 
hosts in the other world, that will not shine on you, 

that will not walk by your side, that will not bless 
16 



242 HKRAIJ) SKRMONS 

your every endeavor. Christ will be as tender as 
He was to the poor Magdalen, God will stretch out 
His everlasting arms in your support, and every 
blade of grass, every flower, every cloud, every ray 
of sunshine will smile its encouragement. 

That is what a mother would do, and therefore 
God is your mother as well as your father. With 
both a father's wisdom and a mother's love as your 
environment you must needs make your life worth 
living. That kind of religion which never despairs 
of the wrongdoer, though it frowns on the wrong 
done, will sometime redeem this lower world and 
equip us with those spiritual qualities which will 
make our entrance into heaven an unspeakable joy. 



WHAT WE SHAU, BE 

The works that I do shall he do also ; and greater works 
than these shall he do. — St. John xiv., 12. 

THE New Testament consists of a group of 
gigantic statements, and one of the most con- 
spicuous on account of its stature is that contained 
in my text. It is thrilling, it is startling, and it is 
prophetic almost beyond credibility. 

For myself, I believe that Jesus saw the future, 
the earthly future of the human race, when He 
uttered these words. Sometime the prophecy will 
be realized, and in that far-off to-morrow the repre- 
sentative man will be as unlike the average man of 
the present as the average man of the present is un- 
like the cave-dweller of a prehistoric period. Some 
will call this a dream, but I prefer to call it religion. 
I take it that Jesus was entirely serious on this occa- 
sion. Anything short of the profoundest sincerity 

243 



244 HERALD SERMONS 

would have been equivalent to deception. He 
stated a literal fact based on certain spiritual con- 
ditions, and it was none the less a fact because it 
excited the wonder or the incredulity of those who 
listened, and none the less a fact because it excites 
our wonder and incredulity after sixty generations 
have tried to live the life He lived and failed. Give 
the race time enough and the processes of evolution 
or progress will vindicate themselves. We cannot 
tell what is to be by judging from what is, for there 
are elements in human nature which have never yet 
been awakened. 

The Spirit of God pervades the universe, but we 
have not learned how to get into contact with it. 
When we discover that secret our lives will be so 
changed that for the first time in this world's history 
we shall feel that we are made in the image of God 
and are little lower than the angels. We are now 
in our spiritual swaddling clothes, with great souls 
beating in our bosoms, but souls undeveloped or 
dwarfed by their ignorance. We have longings 
that cannot be expressed, aspirations which resemble 
an eagle in a cage, ambition which tries to grasp at 
eternal truths and fails to get them. The best part 



WHAT WE SHAU, BE 245 

of us has never yet manifested itself, never had its 
opportunity, its proper impulse or environment. 
Since God made us we must some time be worthy 
of our Creator, but we are painfully conscious that 
this is not true to-day. We are on the threshold of 
our destiny and hesitate to take the next step. God 
is here, but we do not see Him. His influences are 
round about us, but the doors are closed and bolted 
and they cannot enter, for religion, or what we call 
our religion, is an intellectual and spiritual toy 
which satisfies us because we are in our babyhood. 
It is a mere shadow of the substance, an echo of far- 
off music, but not the religion which Christ had and 
which made Him omnipotent. 

We have made great advances in physics, almost 
none in psychology. We have discovered that the 
universe of matter is saturated with vital energy, 
and in some instances have tapped the vast reser- 
voir. Genius has sent a wire into the overhanging 
cloud and drawn from it a current, just as the farmer 
draws sap from his maple trees. The cloud has 
always been at our service, it has always held in its 
embrace what it would be glad to give us if we only 
knew how to ask for it. Again, there is incalculable 



246 HERALD SERMONS 

energy in this flood of sunshine which overwhelms 
this system with its light and beauty. Two great 
workingmen have gathered sun rays by means of 
reflectors and made them do an engine's work in 
driving machinery. Another man has liquefied the 
air we breathe, and such is its marvellous energy 
that it can be applied in a thousand ways to serve 
our comfort and convenience. 

Now, these forces have been patiently waiting 
since creation's dawn for the hand that was skilful 
enough to catch and harness them. They are like 
a drove of wild horses roving the prairies of the 
universe. Some have been lassoed and tamed, but 
thousands of them are still running wild. 

I believe there are as many psychological as there 
are physical forces. God is everywhere, and His 
Spirit is waiting to be captured by man. When we 
succeed in doing that we shall be transformed, our 
souls will be developed, diseases of the body will 
vanish, we shall live in health and peace and con- 
tentment to a ripe old age, and then step from the 
earthly home into heaven. When that blessed hour 
arrives we shall resemble the Christ, become one 
with Him as He is one with the Father, and realize 



WHAT WK SHAUy B£ 247 

His prophecy that greater works than these shall 
we do. 

If I dream when I declare this, then it is Christ 
who bids me dream. The words I utter are not 
mine but His. I simply believe what He says, and 
in my soul, which thrills at the prospect, and which 
has the utmost confidence that He was serious when 
He made this statement, I feel sure that He meant 
us to take it in the most literal sense. 

But we can do nothing until we become receptive. 
Faith in Him, in His power and presence, is the one 
imposed condition of success. The world clutches 
us. We must free ourselves by thinking more 
clearly of spiritual concerns. This little bivouac of 
earthly life is as nothing. Eternity is all. Think 
of eternity, live in it, throw yourself open to its in- 
fluences and you will soon find that you have enter- 
tained angels unawares. No more the shadow, but 
the substance ; no more the echo, but the music ; no 
more yourself alone, but you and God working in 
unison. Then we shall be the children of the Father, 
His face visible, His voice audible, and the cloud of 
witnesses always in sight. 



POSSIBILITIES 

And it doth not yet appear what we shall be. — i John iii., 2. 

IT is a very curious and somewhat startling fact 
* that we have just begun to believe that we have 
souls. Heretofore we have entertained vague and 
fantastic notions on the subject, admitting in a gen- 
eral way that a soul is better than a body because it 
lasts longer, but having no clear ideas as to its de- 
velopment or as to its future. This life was so 
frightfully real that any other possible life assumed 
the shape of a dream. But of late the soul has 
claimed the attention of science, and, although 
progress has been made with slow and hesitating 
steps, we have certainly advanced far beyond our 
fathers in acquiring a definite position. 

Psychology has forced its way to the front, or at 
least toward the front, and half the world is asking 
questions concerning to-day and to-morrow which 

the other half is trying to answer. There is no 

248 



POSSIBILITIES 249 

reason why we should not make a great many dis- 
coveries in connection with that vital spark the 
withdrawal of which leaves the physical man so 
much a wreck that its presence is no longer wel- 
come. We give it back with many tears and an 
equal number of hopes to our mother earth. We 
are all looking with eager eyes into the Beyond, 
and if any one in authority has anything to say on 
the subject we listen with rapt attention. There is 
something almost painful in the pathos with which 
we demand new facts about a continued existence, 
for our affections can not and will not be satisfied 
with the thought of extinction. 

Almost every family has some legend or some 
memory of supernormal experience on the part of a 
dear one who was just crossing the threshold into 
the other life. In some cases the sight becomes 
phenomenally acute and the departed appear with 
outstretched hands to assist the newcomer in the 
passage to heaven. In others the ear is equally 
acute, and the overture of the angels is heard as a 
welcome to the brighter land. Death has thus been 
robbed of its terrors and made easy. These stories 
are floating in the air everywhere. Can it be that 



250 HERALD SKRMONS 

they mean nothing ? And if they mean something, 
then, how much ? 

Science has a duty to perform in this large field. 
It has either ignored or simply looked on with the 
curiosity of indifference. But it is possible to gather 
verified facts enough to formulate a theory which 
may some time solidify itself into a demonstrated 
faith. We cannot afford to ' c pass by on the other 
side, ' ' and the time is coming when skilful men will 
handle these things, some Darwin bold enough to 
follow the truth wherever it may lead, and tell us 
what we long to know. The hour is ripe, the atti- 
tude of the general mind is propitious, and we have 
a right to look for startling discoveries in the near 
future. 

Or, again : When a man comes to me saying he 
has a message from the other world I may be in- 
credulous, but I cannot forget that the word " impos- 
sible" has become obsolete. I cannot help hoping 
that what he says is true, neither can I help be- 
lieving that it is well within the limits of possibility. 
That Christ enjoyed that privilege, that the Old 
Testament is filled with instances of the kind, that 
St. Paul records a most remarkable experience along 



POSSIBILITIES 251 

these lines, that in the life of every saint are similar 
occurrences, cannot for a moment be doubted. Have 
all these been mistaken, and have we been dreaming 
dreams when we put faith in these statements ? Is 
the Bible to be trusted elsewhere and distrusted here ? 
Is this universal longing to know about those who 
have gone through the churchyard to heaven a de- 
lusion and a snare, a bright promise of faith which 
simply "sets the children's teeth on edge"? A 
strange world, indeed, in which our thirst is never 
quenched, our hunger never satisfied! Why, then, 
the hunger and the thirst ? 

These matters are slowly coming within the range 
of scientific inquiry. The days of indifference have 
passed. With the future new glories will open to 
our surprised e} T es, new truths will be discovered, 
and we shall find that the two worlds are so close 
together that as our prayers go forth to the gates 
the loved ones come to answer them and render 
assistance. 

Before that time we ourselves may depart, but the 
way will be open to come back, bringing the love of 
God, of Christ, and of the risen ones into hearts and 
households. 



BK PATIENT 

In your patience possess ye your souls. — St. Iyuke xxi., 19. 

£) ATIENCE ! A very humble virtue and yet one 
*• which has much to do with our happiness and 
with the sweetness of our friendships. It is a virtue 
to be carefully cultivated, for without it we are a re- 
gret to ourselves and a sorrow to others. 

Patience is of two sorts. First, it indicates the 
ability to preserve one's equilibrium under ex- 
asperating circumstances. It is, therefore, closely 
allied to self-control, for without self-control you 
cannot be patient. It enables you to preserve an 
unruffled temper in the midst of disturbing provo- 
cations and to look with a large degree of charity 
on the weaknesses or the petulance or the anger of 
those with whom you have relations. It is a quality 
of character without which no one can be satisfied 

with himself or receive the approval of those in 

252 



BK PATIKNT 253 

heaven who have a special interest in us. It 
smooths the pathway of life in an almost miraculous 
fashion and turns many an impending evil into a 
positive good. 

Then there is another kind of patience. It refers 
to the manner in which you bear the ills of life, the 
spirit in which you endure hardship and struggle in 
any of its ten thousand shapes. When you suffer 
quietly — that is, with a placid and still trustful soul 
— patience develops and becomes fortitude. Patience 
requires a degree of courage, and fortitude, which 
means that you have a very heavy burden to bear, 
requires a still larger degree of courage. When 
patience under the petty ills of life evolves into 
fortitude under the greater ills the next and last 
achievement is resignation, which indicates your be- 
lief that these great afflictions are in the providence 
of God, and that you are submissive because He will 
help you to bear them and will bring out of them 
the most exalted spiritual condition that human 
nature can attain. Patience, fortitude, resignation ! 
When you have attained to all three virtues and 
have based your conduct on them you know for the 
first time who the Christ was and why He was what 



254 HERALD SERMONS 

He was. There is a miraculous element in your life ; 
you are a Christian in the fullest sense of the word, 
and things will be revealed to your heart which the 
unaided intellect could never reach. 

I have been on a full-rigged ship at sea. When 
the steady breeze played with her sails she raced 
over the smooth waters like a thing of beauty. For- 
tune favored her, and though I rejoiced at her speed 
I knew that her qualities were not being tested. 
When the seas were heavy and opposed her progress 
she bore the opposition with a patience which excited 
my admiration. She was in ill luck, but she did the 
best she could under the circumstances and seemed 
satisfied to make even a little headway. When the 
wind rose to a gale and the sails were furled, she 
showed her mettle. She bore the onset of tempest 
and billows with fortitude, with the persistent cour- 
age of a heroine, struggling, but driven backward 
all the while. And when again the raging storm 
was too much for endurance she accepted the situa- 
tion, became resigned, as it were, and simply con- 
fined herself to keeping above water. Her bow was 
in the very teeth of the gale, and she rose and fell, 
almost helpless, but with an apparent faith that 



B£ PATIENT 255 

tempests cannot last forever, that the sun would 
shine once more, that the calm was not far off, and 
that she would yet reach her destined port. In that 
experience I found the lesson of a lifetime. I may 
go even farther than that and say I found the cen- 
tral thought of the New Testament, the philosophy 
of Him who saw the Father's hand in the shadows 
of Gethsemane as in the festivities of the marriage 
feast. 

So I declare that there is nothing more desirable 
than patience, a virtue so homely that most of us 
overlook it, but so necessary that a noble character 
cannot be built on any other foundation. What 
would our lives be without it? What else do we 
require so constantly ? No day passes but we need 
to exercise it toward the events of life and toward 
our best friends. 

To the poor man who thinks his future is hope- 
less, who feels that the world is against him and 
who is tempted to bitterness of soul thereby, I simply 
whisper the single word, Patience ! If resistance is 
useless, then resist not, but let resignation take its 
place. Live your days one by one, borrow no 
trouble from the morrow, but find in the passing 



256 HKRAIJ) SKRMONS 

hour what comfort you may, and let all other hours 
go their way. Impatience leads to feverish blood 
and unfits you for the hard work in hand. Im- 
patience is close to folly, for it not only adds nothing 
to your power of endurance, but unfits you for your 
task. 

To the sorrowing one who wonders if these tears 
will ever cease, who dreams of a better land where 
there will be no broken ties, and across whose 
threshold death never passes, but gives way to 
doubt through excess of grief, I cry out, Patience ! 
Time will not only bring relief, but such sweet 
thoughts that you shall rejoice even over your loss, 
for what has gone from earth has entered heaven. 
One door has shut, but another door has opened. 
Will love know dissolution ? Not if it be true love, 
for death has no power to touch or mar the memory 
or the affections. Bach one takes his love with him 
when he goes, and it burns with a brighter flame on 
that farther shore; aye, it draws him back as one of 
our guardian angels. 

Be quiet, therefore, placid of soul, whatever hap- 
pens. Be so true to yourself that you will never 
lose control of yourself. Never allow impatience to 



BE PATIENT 257 

despoil you of your faith in God or your charity for 
your neighbors. Things may go wrong, but the 
stout heart which believes that this is God's world 
and that He has not left it to its fate will find some 
comfort, some happiness in every experience that 
comes. 

The Christ had that calmness of character which 
indicates not indifference, but strength. The 
mightiest thing on earth is a quiet soul, which puts 
its trust in God, knows that it has the power to 
bear all that He may ordain, and so lives from year 
to year in the serenity of faith. To such a one it 
is but stepping across an imaginary line to go to 
heaven. 



RESIGNATION 

Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. — St. 
Matthew vi., 10. 

IT would be an act of folly to be resigned to a dis- 
■* agreeable condition of affairs if that condition 
were avoidable. A man is bound to get the fullest 
extent of happiness out of life, and it is a sacred 
duty to do so. He ought to do his utmost to make 
his environment as pleasant and as cheerful as pos- 
sible. If he foresees an evil he should carefully 
plan to get it out of his way, and work hard to 
accomplish that object. There is no reason why we 
should not extract from passing time the very best 
and pleasantest it is capable of furnishing. It is as 
much an injunction of religion to do this as it is to 
be just and honest and charitable. The old notion 
that one can be religious only when he is half 

miserable, or that we should be gloomy in order to 

258 



RESIGNATION 259 

please the Almighty, is now obsolete ; it is a libel 
against Him who made the sky blue and scattered 
flowers over the earth. 

The same rule holds good when a disagreeable 
condition is permanent and unavoidable; that is to 
say, it is a duty to take the brighter rather than the 
more sombre view of the situation and find as much 
peace and happiness as the circumstances contain. 
There is no life so narrow that it does not hold more 
of good than we at first think conceivable. If, in- 
stead of looking with covetous eye on the superior 
benefits which others enjoy, we set at work to live 
our own life in our own way we shall be surprised 
to find that flowers blossom in soil which we thought 
only productive of weeds. The great secret is to 
force ourselves into harmony with our surroundings 
— it is not always easy to do this — and compel them 
to yield their best product. This resignation is one 
of the loftiest of virtues and one of the most heroic. 

I can imagine that a tree, when cut down, split 
asunder, steamed and bent into the shape of a ves- 
sel's ribs, may complain that it is hardly used; that 
it is unjust to tear it from its native forest and 
change its destiny and its purpose. But when the 



260 HKRAI.D SERMONS 

vessel is afloat, breasting the storms of old ocean 
and bearing a rich argosy from port to port, I can 
also imagine a strange awakening on the part of 
that tree and a conscious thanksgiving that it was 
not left to flourish with other forest trees, but was 
singled out for special duty by a special decree of 
Providence. 

In like manner, I have seen a human life crushed 
by a disappointment or by a bereavement or by 
some heart-sorrow worse than death. It seemed as 
though all the light had gone out of it — a black 
night and gloom. And yet, as time wore on the 
stars came out, and when the soul had become ac- 
customed to the new environment there was a peace, 
a calm resignation which yielded no small degree 
of actual happiness. The narrow circle gave more 
than the larger circle of other days, and the bur- 
dened life had flowers in it which do not blossom in 
soil which is rich with excitement and pleasure. 
Many a man has learned what life means through 
affliction, and I sometimes think that our sorrows 
are the best part of us. The man who has his own 
way has a very poor way, and the man who is led 
by God is on the road to heaven. 



RESIGNATION 26 1 

Once feel God's hand on your shoulder and you 
will forget the world and make a world of your own. 
What others enjoy will be nothing to you, and what 
you will find in your own pathway when you are in 
the right relation to Him is sufficient for you. If 
we were to live here forever it would be different. 
Then we should feel hardly to be deprived of pleas- 
ures which others enjoy; but since this life is so 
short and the other life is so long what matters it 
that others have riches and we poverty, others 
leisure and we severe toil, or others health and we 
sickness? These things in the economy of the 
soul are mere details whose value we have greatly 
exaggerated. We can get on bravely and sturdily 
and live our little lives so worthily that when the 
perfect day comes we shall be warmly welcomed. 

There are no circumstances in which we may not 
build character, and character is all there is to live 
for. Be patient, therefore, and the morning will 
break at last. Be cheerful, even in the twilight 
of illness greatly prolonged, and the shadows will 
disappear. 

When the painful experience can be avoided, your 
efforts must not cease, but when the unavoidable 



262 HERALD SERMONS 

occurs fit yourself to it, let it be your mission to 
use it to your soul's advantage, and you will soon 
learn that no life is without peace and joy. Resig- 
nation is itself a source of comfort and happiness. 



HOW MUCH ARE YOU WORTH? 

What shall a man give in exchange for his soul ? — St. 
Matthew xvi., 26. 

f~\NE custom which the business man strictly 
^-^ observes may well be imitated in our spiritual 
concerns. At certain seasons of the year he wants 
to know just where he is financially, what his profits 
have been in the past, and what his prospects are 
for the future. He can only do this by taking what 
is called " an account of stock." 

If he has a good deal of cumbersome material on 
hand, occupying storage room which is needed for 
more attractive goods, he sets his wits to work to 
get rid of it. Whatever is outside of the popular 
demand, whatever is useless for future trade, how- 
ever profitable it may have been in the past, he 
sacrifices without a murmur. His object is to keep 
only what will attract the eye of the public, and 
thereby add to his gains. In this way he finds out 
what he is worth in hard money, what he can and 

what he can not count on in his aim to expand his 

363 



264 HERALD SERMONS 

business. We seldom do that spiritually. It is not 
often that we set up the standard of true manhood 
or womanhood, and face the fact that we have quali- 
ties of character and tendencies which we must 
banish from the soul if we are to achieve the highest 
success, and other qualities and tendencies which 
we must foster and cherish and stimulate. This 
review of the situation, " taking account of stock," 
getting rid of the worthless and adding to the 
worthy, if made with severe and impartial judgment, 
— in other words, if we could be persuaded to criticise 
ourselves as sternly as we criticise our neighbors, — 
would produce results which would make the world 
blossom like a rose and fill the air with the perfume 
of good deeds and noble thoughts. 

Human nature is not bad ; it is thoughtless. The 
majority of our impulses are good, but selfishness 
checks them, and the love of gain turns the current 
the other way. If it were a universal habit to retire 
to solitude for thirty minutes each day to seriously 
think of what it is best to do and why it is best to 
do it, to examine our motives as we examine a 
specimen under the microscope, we should change 
the whole complexion of life, and the acts to be 



HOW MUCH ARE YOU WORTH 265 

regretted would be greatly diminished in number. 
There is a deal of nobility in the soul which is kept 
under cover and given no chance to grow. The 
cares and rivalries and ambitions of the world are 
all on the seething surface, while down below, where 
the only real life is to be found, are half- smothered 
aspirations and longings. L,ift from us this deadly 
weight of pure worldliness, give the soul an oppor- 
tunity to work out its destiny with perfect freedom, 
and the millennium would come to us in the second 
generation. 

This is what the Scriptures call the new birth. 
The voice of nineteen centuries ago still fills the air 
with its picture of the ideal. Measure yourself as 
you do your stock of goods; examine, explore your 
depths as you would prospect for gold in the moun- 
tain fastnesses of the West ; think of what you may 
be, what you were intended to be, and compare that 
with what you actually are. Such an effort would 
change your whole outlook, for nine tenths of the 
evil you do is done from a quick impulse, not from 
a slow conviction. 

Go into your closet and shut the door. In the 
dim twilight of that solitude regenerating influences 



266 HKRAI.D SKRMONS 

will come. This world will become more and more 
spectral and the other world more and more real. 
The voices of angels cannot be heard above this din 
and roar — even the voice of God is drowned by the 
whirlwind of business life; but in the loneliness of 
your closet, face to face with your soul, you will find 
a companionship so true and uplifting that it will be 
worth while to live, because to live means to widen 
your horizon until it includes heaven. 

If you are young, occasional solitude will be a 
teacher insisting that what is upright and downright 
alone has stability. If you are in middle life, you 
will be taught of those wholesome regrets over mis- 
taken deeds which make the blood purer and the 
heart warmer. If you are old, solitude will so 
strengthen your sight that the fairer country will 
loom up in the distance. 

Find out what you are worth, take a careful in- 
ventor}' of yourself, and you will walk with a digni- 
fied tread, your lips will utter what is helpful, your 
hands will lift the weary, and you will wake in the 
morning to find that the only thing in the universe 
that should claim your effort is personal righteous- 
ness. 



LOVE 

I will love him and will manifest myself to him. — St. 
John xiv., 21. 

/""^AN you conceive what this old earth would be 

^-^ if there were no love in it ? Love is the river 

Jordan in which we are all baptized and consecrated 

to a new life. It flows by every home in the land, 

making green our lowland meadows, irrigating the 

desert places and covering the sandy soil with 

flowers. Life would otherwise be a dirge, but love 

makes it a paean of praise. Take all but love and 

there is enough left to make us content and happy; 

give all but that and you may as well give nothing, 

for he who gives all but sunshine gives only frost 

and ice and cold. 

Our confidence and trust in each other, our loyal 

friendship for each other, our charity of judgment 

toward each other, our willingness to sacrifice for 
267 



268 HERALD SKRMONS 

each other — all born of love — are the saving grace 
of the world. They are fragrance, they are music, 
and they are the bow in the sky predicting a 
heavenly morrow. I^ove points to God and insists 
on immortality. If one is pervaded by the spirit of 
love, not as kindled shavings, which burn intensely 
and suddenly go out, but like the altar flame of the 
Druids, which was never extinguished, he need not 
argue about immortality, for he has the right to 
demand it of the Almighty, for such a divine pas- 
sion is not satisfied with this life, but seeks a higher 
development in a larger place, with larger oppor- 
tunity. 

L,ove is at once the prophecy and proof of eternal 
existence, and nothing else will satisfy the appetite 
which God Himself has implanted. He would 
hardly be a Heavenly Father who should so fashion 
us that we should find our supreme happiness and 
our highest education in love, and then at death 
suddenly blot it all out. If God's power were 
limited such a state of affairs would be conceivable, 
but with a God whose resources are boundless it is 
not conceivable — a symphony hardly begun before 
it is ended. That would be a curious exhibition of 



i,ovk 269 

wisdom and power. On the other hand, it would be 
a distinct act of crue^. The song that is only 
partly sung when death bids us hush must be fin- 
ished in some other clime ; the task so nobly begun 
but left incomplete must be resumed elsewhere, or 
this is the strangest world ever heard of and the 
greatest enigma, a world in which death is more 
powerful than God. 

Think of a planet without love. It is well-nigh 
impossible. Such a planet would not be worth liv- 
ing in. One would rather not be born than be born 
into such a world. Only your own advantage to be 
fought for and won! Greedy souls clamoring for 
more and refusing to share a morsel with their 
neighbors — a life-and-death struggle to get for your- 
self and to keep from others — a wretched world, too 
forlorn for words — no blue sky, no green fields, no 
rivulets making music, only a dreary, barren waste 
of sand, with but one highway, and that leading 
Nowhere. It is impossible to think of such a world 
until God has been dethroned. 

Man's love is a very beautiful thing, but it lacks 
the special peculiarities of God's love. Man's love 
is weak, but God's is wise. God loves us so much 



270 HERALD SERMONS 

that He holds us to our ideals, and, though merciful, 
He will tolerate nothing less. He commands us to 
be all He knows we can be, and assists us with the 
whole trend and current of the universe. He will 
accept no imperfect gift. There is a sternness and 
a glory in God's love which we find it difficult to 
understand, it is so unlike our love. 

When we love we condone offences, excuse faults, 
and so encourage both. The more we love, the 
more partial and the less critical we are. It is be- 
cause our love is human, while His is divine. His 
love makes us nobler, develops and educates, while 
ours, pure and sweet as it is, is apt to have the con- 
trar}' effect. There is no favoritism with Him, and 
when 3'ou have His approval you may be sure that 
you have the qualities of character which can law- 
fully claim it. His is the perfect love, while ours is 
imperfect. 

But even our human love brings heaven close to 
earth. Our family relations — that of father, mother, 
husband, wife, child — are all separate benedictions. 
They clear the rugged path of experience with that 
sympathy which frightens temptation away and fills 
the fields with flowers and with a happiness which 



i,ovs 271 

can be had in no other way. Better still, it tear- 
fully and joyfully points to that perfect day in which 
our broken ties shall bind themselves together once 
more, and in which the mansions of God shall be 
filled with loving hearts which will thenceforward 
know no parting. 



HERALD SERMONS. 

By Rev. GEORGE H. HEPWORTH, 

AUTHOR OF " HIRAM GOLF'S RELIGION," ETC. 

45 Short Sermons reprinted from the New York Herald. 
i2mo, 252 pages. Portrait of Author. $1.00. 

" For months past a sermon has appeared as the leading editorial in 
the Sunday edition of the Herald, and these sermons have now been 
published in book form. In reproducing these admirable discourses the 
publishers have unquestionably acted wisely. Both here and in Europe a 
lively controversy has been aroused in consequence of the bold statements 
and striking originality of these weekly essays on religious topics, while 
at the same time great curiosity has been manifested in regard to the per- 
sonality of the author." — New York Herald. 

" In these sermons subjects were chosen which come home to every 
individual some time in his life whether he is in one church or another, or 
in no church ; and they were treated in such a broad way that they could 
be beneficial to all. The sermons have one excellent merit which it would 
be well if some of those given in pulpits could be patterned after — they 
are brief and strictly to the point. Some of the sermons which are par- 
ticularly helpful or suggestive are, 'A Wasted Life,' ' Prayer, 1 ' The 
Problem of Poverty,' ' Why Do We Suffer ? ' ' Heroes and Heroines,' 
1 Bearing Good Fruit,' ' Do What You Think Is Right,' * Little 
People Who Live Little Lives,' and ' You Shall Have Strength.' These 
are a few of those in the volume, every one of which will contain some 
word for some one in trouble or doubt." — Boston Transcript. 

" They are addressed to men and women entangled in the perplexities 
of life, and help them not so much by opening to them a larger faith as by 
disclosing to them the hope and comfort which lies in the faith they now 
hold." — Independent. 



HERALD SERMONS. 

SECOND SERIES. 45 SERMONS. 

By Rev. GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
i2mo, 236 pages. Half White, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.00. 

" But why have these sermons caused such a sensation ? Do they differ 
so much from ordinary sermons? .... Lucidity, brevity, the ex- 
pression of vital truths in clear cut Saxon English, absence of dogmatism 
an evident abhorrence of intolerance of all kinds, a catholic sympathy 
with human beings of all ranks_ and creeds, and a determination to insist 
on all occasions that ecclesiasticism, with its formulas and rigid adherence 
to the letter of the law, is quite a different thing from the simple, soul 
satisfying religion of Christ— these, we think, are the chief characteristics 
of George H. Hepworth, as made known to us through this book, and it 
is precisely because he has given full play to his individuality that these 
sermons of his are well worth reading now, and will be well worth read- 
ing long after the author has passed away."— New York Herald. 



BROWN STUDIES; 

Or, Camp Fires and Morals. 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
i6mo, 332 pages. Illustrated, gilt top, $1.00. 

" In the form of a story, the author takes the reader to the Adiron- 
dacks, where the chief character, with his guides and a dog, spends 3 
winter discoursing of life, its demands, duties and customs." — JV. V. Times 




" It is a sweet, true book, good to read, with much manly vigor and 
not a little feminine gentleness."— Independent. 

" Mr. Hepworth has done some excellent things in a literary way, as 
4 Hiram Golf's Religion' bears ample testimony; but we have no hesitation 
in prr- juncing this essay, short-story romance, as in every respect his 
best, xn something the same vein as ' Dream Life,' it is to our mind 
better." — Boston Advertiser. 



Hiram Golf's Religion; 

OR, 

"The Shoemaker by the Grace of God." 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
i6mo, 134 pages, half white, 50 cents ; cloth, 75 cents. 

" Plain talks of a shoemaker and a parson. They are in dialect ; the 
style is both quaint and strong. A book that gives the reader something 
to think about. . . . The sterling, homely common-sense of the book 
is commanding wide attention." — The Evangelist. 

" This little book contains, in quaint and simple sketches, the essence 
of practical Christianity. Hiram Golf is the man who exemplifies the pre- 
cept, ' Whether ye eat or drink, or whatever ye do, do all to the glory of 
God.' His talks with the young minister are the best sort of lay sermons, 
and his life is at once a model and an inspiration. The book cannot fail 
to be of service to ministers and laymen alike." — New York Observer. 

"The point is that serving God consists in doing His will, especially 
so as to benefit one's fellow men and women, wherever one finds oneself. 
It is a powerful and touching little story and should have a large circula- 
tion." — Congregationalist. 



The Farmer and The Lord, 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
x6mo, 238 pages, half white, 50 cents ; cloth, 75 cents. 

"The Farmer and The Lord" is one of Dr. George Hepworth's 
familiar talks about points in practical religion, after the style of " Hiram 
Golf's Religion." The basis of Dr. Hepworth's talks is the promise that 
11 if any man will do His will, he shall know the doctrine." 

"It is a modest book, but mighty in depicting the folly of infidelity 
disclosing the unreasonableness of agnosticism, and enforcing the wis- 
dom, strength, and sufficiency of the Christian religion."— Christian 
Intelligencer. 

11 It is a good, strong story of its kind, full of wholesome religious zeal, 
and well bearing out its optimistic purpose." — Independent* 



THEY MET IN HEAVEN 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
5th thousand. i6mo, 216 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

An account of The Fireside Club and its discussions during the 
winter preceding the death of Hiram Golf. 

" This is a tender and helpful study in religious experiences. . . . 
To many Dr. Hepworth's method may be a hand stretched out from 
heaven. To all it will be a book of pure, gentle and persuasive Christian 
inspiration. . . . We have no doubt that an inquirer like Van Brunt, 
shut up in the dark, barren and hopeless cage of intellectual orthodoxy 
and spiritual leanness, would find Hiram Golf's method a door open 
into faith." — Independent. 

" It tells of a small club of friends, one of whom is Hiram Golf, the 
now well-known ' shoemaker by the grace of God,' and how their chats 
brought trust and peace to one bereaved, despairing and almost crazed, by 
unfolding to him the hopes of heaven and of reunion with the beloved 
dead which the gospel suggests. It is eminently readable, and is practical 
and inspiring."— Congregationalist. 



THE HEPWORTH YEAR BOOK 

Selections from Dr. Hepworth's writings for each day of 
the year. 

i6mo, 75 cents. 

These selections are Terse, Crisp and Brilliant. 



THE LIFE BEYOND. 

This Hortal Hust Put on Immortality. 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
2nd thousand. i6mo, 116 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

" The author of this choice book is pleased to think that he has made 
no single statement which can in any proper sense be called original ; but 
he has given the oldest truths and the commonest beliefs a freshness of put- 
ting and illustration better than originality. He tells the old, old story : 
he tells it in a way to stimulate interest and desire and afford consolation 
to the wearied and forlorn, who are seeking for sources of comfort in the 
unseen and immeasurable things beyond the vail." — Zion's Herald. 

" The thoughts presented are expressed clearly and forcibly, and in a 
style fitted to commend them to tried and sorrowing hearts."— Watchman. 



THROUGH ARMENIA ON 
HORSEBACK 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
8vo, 356 pages, 25 illustrations, gilt top, $2.00. 

" It is written in Dr. Hepworth's beautiful, easy style, and abounds in 
fine descriptions of the scenery and interesting reminiscences of travel. 
It has no dull pages." — Chicago Inter-Ocean. 

"As the account of a difficult and a picturesque journey, it could not be 
better; but it is more than an exciting story, it is important testimony." — 
Christian Register. 

"One of the best things in the book is the spontaneous and evidently 
most sincere tribute to the worth and practical wisdom of the American 
missionaries, whom he describes as ' learned men and cultured women,' 
and with respect to whose heroic martyrdom of living self-sacrifice he 
exclaims : ' With a full heart, a heart with a big ache in it, I cry, ' God 
bless them ! ' "— N. Y. Observer. 



THE 
HEPWORTH YEAR=BOOK 

Selections for Every Day in the Year from the 
Writings of George H. Hep worth 

i6mo, half white, 50 cents ; cloth, 75 cents 

" The selection is so judicious and comprehensive that a reading of the 
whole book can scarely fail to bring to old, as well as to young, a clearer 
and richer knowledge of the beauty of the Bible and of the truths which 
it teaches."— Christian Advocate. 



Sent by mail on receipt of price. 

E. P. DUTTON & CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 
31 West 23d Street, New York. 



MAR 4 1903 



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